


A reflection of who I am and what will be

by thegirl20



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26421379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirl20/pseuds/thegirl20
Summary: Yennefer falls through a portal onto Tissaia’s floor; soaking wet, bleeding and with a baby in her arms. (Canon divergent fic, assuming the royal baby in episode 4 had lived.)
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 151
Kudos: 329





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I realise there are conflicting interpretations of who exactly Kalis is, so I'm going with the [wiki entry](https://witcher.fandom.com/wiki/Kalis/Netflix_series) which says that she is Queen of Lyria, and not King Virfuril of Aedirn's wife.

Tissaia sighs, rubbing at her temples. She's just finished a tutoring session in her office with a few girls who have been falling behind on their lessons. In days gone by, she'd never have lowered herself to bother with such things. These girls will _not_ ascend. They don't even have enough chaos to be of any real value in the eel pond. But Aretuza's coffers are dwindling year on year and she needs the hefty tuition fees their parents are willing to pay to ensure the girls with real talent are adequately serviced.

The papers on her desk start to flutter. A few blow off completely and the candlestick starts to rattle. Tissaia looks up with a frown, just as the world starts to blur before her eyes. A portal whirrs into life directly in front of her desk. Tissaia stands, hands raised, ready to defend herself. But the magic she senses is not malevolent; rather it is familiar to her. Before she can gather her thoughts enough to work out why she recognises the magical signature, Yennefer of Vengerberg falls through the portal and lands on her rug.

It's been more than thirty years since Tissaia last saw her, swanning into that ballroom and stealing the breath from everyone present before sealing her own destiny with a dance. And now here she is, sprawled on the floor, coughing and spluttering and dripping water everywhere.

She's also cradling a screaming baby to her chest. Tissaia hurries round from behind her desk, standing over Yennefer, to assess the situation. Yennefer's violet eyes meet her own, more frightened than she can ever remember seeing them.

"T-take her," Yennefer says, her teeth chattering. "She's t-too c-cold."

Both the child and Yennefer are soaking wet. Tissaia does as she's bid, taking the child from Yennefer and muttering a spell to dry her clothes and warm her up before doing the same for Yennefer. She adjusts the child in her arms; it's been many years since she held a babe this young. She looks down at Yennefer with concern, even as she tries to calm the child down. Since being relieved of her burden, Yennefer has curled in on herself, panting with her eyes closed.

"Yennefer," Tissaia says, noting that the child's crying is beginning to ease now that she is warmer. With her arms occupied, Tissaia prods Yennefer's leg with the toe of her boot. "Yennefer, what's going on?"

Yennefer shakes her head, not opening her eyes. "Jus- just make sure she's not hurt."

Tissaia sighs, but turns her attention to the child, who is now whimpering softly, more of an echo of her crying fit than a continuation of it.

"Shhh, little one," Tissaia soothes as she unwraps the swaddling and inspects the baby's skin. She is unmarked, and going by her earlier volume, her heart and lungs are working at full capacity. She covers her back up and rocks her gently. All the crying has clearly tired her out because her eyelids are heavy and her breath comes in gentle puffs against Tissaia's neck. She rubs her back until the small head sags against her hand. Looking around for a blanket of some sort, she grabs a cloak from her coatstand and arranges it on one of her couches, forming a nest as best she can with one hand. She deposits the child into the bundle and covers her up.

When she turns back to Yennefer, she gasps. Due to the commotion and the noise, she had failed to notice the dagger sticking out of Yennefer's shoulder.

"You're hurt!" Tissaia says, dropping to her knees beside her former student to examine the site of the wound. Yennefer winces, but mostly keeps still as Tissaia tears at her ripped dress to better see what is going on. The dagger is embedded almost to the hilt in the flesh of Yennefer's shoulder. Fresh blood oozes from the wound, running in rivulets and soaking into Yennefer's dress, drying in dark russet tendrils across her skin. She bends her to sniff the wound.

"I don't think it's poisoned," Yennefer tells her, her breath ragged. "Just _fucking_ painful."

"I have no doubt," Tissaia says. "I need you to turn a bit further towards me." She tries to help, easing Yennefer over so that her chest is supported by Tissaia's lap. Yennefer's hand twists in Tissaia's skirts, her forehead pressed to her hip.

"It hurts," Yennefer groans. "Get it out. Please."

"Perhaps if you would stop talking," Tissaia tells her. "I'd be able to concentrate."

That elicits a breathless laugh, followed by a pained gasp. Tissaia sighs. She is no medic, but she can't risk bringing anyone else to this room before she ascertains the situation. Yennefer has many enemies, and she has a few herself, who would love to hear of Aedirn's infamous mage brought low.

"I'm going to remove it quickly and deal with the aftermath," Tissaia says. Yennefer nods, tightening her hold on Tissaia's skirts. "On a count of three, yes?" Tissaia grips the handle of the blade, adjusting her hold so as the removal will be as straightforward and painless as she can manage. "One." She swallows. "Two." She yanks the dagger free without further warning.

Yennefer shrieks in pain, mutters something that sounds like 'you fucker', then slumps against Tissaia, her hand going slack as she passes out.

"How did you survive the enchantment, girl?" Tissaia mumbles as she gathers up her skirts and uses the fabric to apply pressure to Yennefer's wound in an attempt to stem the bleeding. "Or have all these years at court made you soft, hmm?" She keeps the pressure on for several minutes before she chances a look at the wound. The bleeding has slowed, thankfully. She looks at their surroundings; she can't care for either of them from the floor of her workspace. Reluctant to disturb the baby, in case that awful crying starts up once more, she decides to move Yennefer first.

She rips a clean section from her dress, since it is now ruined from Yennefer's blood anyway, and folds it to make a pad. With care, she inserts it into the ruined back of Yennefer's dress to cover the wound. She eases Yennefer off her lap, earning a soft moan and then nothing. Reassured that she's still out cold, and that the baby is asleep, Tissaia moves through to her bedchamber and makes preparations to both treat and hide her visitors. She draws the curtains, not that anyone could see in by accident, but one never knows when a passing seagull or owl is actually a spy from a colleague. She yanks blankets to the foot of the bed, leaving just a sheet to cover the mattress. Glancing around, she spies a crate of books she had been going to return to Aretuza's library. She quickly empties it, piling the books back onto her shelves and gathers up some bedding, using it to pad the base and sides of the crate for use as a crib. She frowns. What else do babies need? Some sort of feeding apparatus, she imagines. And something to be bathed in. She wrinkles her nose. And many changes of underclothes. Well, that can be dealt with once she has moved Yennefer off the floor.

Making her way back through to her office, Tissaia checks the child is still asleep, then chants some elder until Yennefer's body lifts from the floor. Tissaia moves quickly to position her so that the padding doesn't move and that there's no undue pressure on her injured shoulder. She keeps a hand on the wound, and another on Yennefer's hip, as they move to the other room. She deposits the unconscious woman on the bed, again positioned so as not to cause her pain.

Brushing Yennefer's hair away from her face, she smiles at how young she seems. Not merely because her looks are frozen in time, but because in slumber she is stripped of her usual smirk or the roll of her eyes; her armour. With Yennefer so unguarded, Tissaia takes the opportunity to look at her. She runs a thumb over her chin to where her jaw used to protrude. There's a pang in Tissaia's chest as she thinks of the young woman she knew; imperfect, sharp-tongued and more powerful than she understood.

A whimper from the next room brings Tissaia out of her memories and she sighs.

"Not again."

With a final glance at Yennefer to make sure she's still unconscious, Tissaia hauls herself up and goes back through to her office. The baby is wriggling around and Tissaia realises that putting her on a narrow, raised surface was perhaps not the best idea she's ever had. She picks up the squirming bundle. Almost immediately the baby seems to settle, just from her nearness. She's so small, Tissaia thinks, taking in her tiny nose and disproportionately large eyes. Without care, this little thing will die. She brushes a finger tenderly down her cheek and the baby's head whips to the side, her mouth latching onto Tissaia's knuckle and sucking.

"Oh. You're hungry." Tissaia looks around, panicked. There's nothing suitable to give a child this young to hand; she's going to have to go to the kitchens.

The baby, having realised that nothing is coming out of Tissaia's knuckle, has started to fuss and whimper. Tissaia tries shushing her and rocking her, but she isn't to be pacified this time and soon her whimper becomes a full on wail.

"Shhhh. I'll- I just need to-" She frowns at herself, trying to reason with an infant. She'll go to the kitchens, quickly, and get what she needs, and then come back and feed her. She hurries through to her bedchamber and deposits the screaming child in the makeshift crib. She doesn't care if the noise wakes Yennefer. In fact, it would be quite a blessing to be able to hand the girl off to her. But Yennefer sleeps on and the child is only getting louder. Tissaia leans into the crib and strokes her hair.

"I'll be back soon. I promise," she whispers.

Casting a quick muffling spell on the room so no-one hears the cries, she conjures a portal, stepping through it to arrive just outside the vast kitchens of Aretuza. Dinner is past so there aren't many people around. Those who are all bow their heads in deference as she passes. She heads straight through to the head cook's small office, used for planning menus and writing orders. Predictably, the old woman is there, scribbling away when Tissaia enters without announcing herself. She looks up.

"Ah, Rectoress. It's been a while since I've seen you down here."

"Haethys," Tissaia says, without bothering with formalities. "I need a favour." She looks behind her and closes the door. "And your discretion."

Haethys is well known for being the person to go to when a scullery maid - or the occasional student - gets herself into trouble. The old woman takes the pipe out of her mouth and sets it in an ashtray, turning to fully look at Tissaia.

"Have you known me to be anything other than discreet, Rectoress?"

Despite being far older than the cook, Tissaia feels like a little girl being reprimanded. She looks down and nods. "No, never." She coughs and looks up. "I'm sorry."

Haethys waves her off. "What do you need?"

Tissaia inhales. "I need something to feed a baby with. A bottle. And milk to go in it." She swallows. "And anything else I might need to look after a baby."

To the woman's credit, she does little more than lift a grey eyebrow. "How old is the child?"

Frowning, Tissaia shrugs. "I don't know." She holds her hands out in front of her, a bit less than a foot apart. "She's about that size."

Nodding, Haethys stands and moves over to a set of shelves and starts to rummage in boxes.

"It's-" Tissaia takes a step towards her. "-fairly urgent."

"Ah, so you have a child screaming to be fed, do you?" Haethys smiles. "Then I'll sort you out with that and bring the rest to your chambers, if that's agreeable?"

"Yes, that's fine." Tissaia nods, wishing to expedite the process.

Haethys emerges with a glass bottle and rubber teat, moving more swiftly than her years would suggest, she sweeps past Tissaia and into the kitchen, returning moments later with a full bottle of milk. Tissaia goes to take it, but Haethys draws it back out of her reach.

"Don't let the babe drink too fast, or she'll fill up with wind. And make sure to break the seal of her lips and the teat every so often to let the milk flow. Let her drink a quarter then hold her up on your shoulder-" She uses the bottle to demonstrate. "-and rub her back until she belches."

Tissaia sighs. It sounds more complicated than she had anticipated, but she's sure if every mother since the dawn of time has mastered getting food into a child, it can't be that difficult. She holds her hand out and Haethys finally gives her the bottle. It's warm.

"It's the right temperature," Haethys tells her. "For future reference, use the inside of your wrist as a guide - drop a spot onto the skin there and it should not feel hot nor cool."

"Yes, very well," Tissaia says. "If you could bring anything else you think would be useful to my apartments, I would be grateful."

She gets an amused chuckle in response. "Good luck."

With a grim nod, Tissaia leaves, waiting until she has left the kitchens to conjure a portal. When she arrives back in her bedchamber, she resists the urge to cover her ears. If she didn't know better, she'd swear someone was being brutally murdered. Hurrying over to the crib, she finds the baby red faced and quivering, her mouth taking up half her face as she squawks.

"Shhhhh," Tissaia tries, as she sets the bottle down and picks the child up. She's almost rigid with rage and hunger, making it difficult to find a comfortable position to hold her. Grabbing the bottle in her free hand, Tissaia moves to the empty side of the bed and sits, bringing one leg up to brace herself and letting the other hang over the side. She gets the child's head into the crook of her elbow and swiftly brings the bottle to her lips.

Whether it's the scent of the milk, or just the feel of something at her lips, the baby quietens instantly, latching onto the teat and sucking. Soft little grunts of approval accompany the sucking motions and Tissaia lets out a sigh of relief. Haethys had said something about not letting her drink too fast, but she's not sure how to prevent that. She tilts the bottle to the side, releasing the pressure building up in the teat, but as soon as the baby senses it is moving away, she follows it, head snapping around and lips pursed around nothing.

"Yes, yes, it's coming back," Tissaia murmurs, smiling when the baby latches on again. It's amazing, she thinks, that the instinct for survival is so strong from so young an age. This baby's body knows it must have sustenance and it has several ways to let that be known.

After a few moments, the child starts to squirm in discomfort and Tissaia gently removes the teat from her mouth, setting the bottle aside. Almost at once the baby starts to cry, building with each inhalation until she's bringing the walls down again.

"Shhhh," Tissaia says, rubbing the child's back and rocking her as best she can. "I can't feed you _and_ make you more comfortable at the same time, child. You need to-" The baby lets out a burp far too loud to have come from her tiny body. "Yes, that." She continues to rub, but the crying really is too much, so she settles back down with the bottle for a second round. Again, the milk quiets her. "Haethys said to let you have a quarter of this bottle," she murmurs. "But I am loathe to remove it from your mouth only to have you scream again. So you can drink your fill and then we shall see where we are. Yes?"

"Yes, Rectoress."

Tissaia jumps at the unexpected response, turning to glare over her shoulder at Yennefer, now apparently awake and feeling well enough to give Tissaia cheek. The glare fades when she sees how pale Yennefer is, how her eyes are dull and absent of their usual mischief. She's lying on her uninjured side, facing Tissaia.

"You've rejoined us, I see," Tissaia says, shifting on the bed so she can hold a conversation without craning her neck. Yennefer's eyes drop to the babe in her arms and she smiles, reaching out to touch her foot.

"This is quite a sight to wake up to," Yennefer says. "The great Tissaia nursing a newborn. Whatever next?"

"You didn't leave me much choice," Tissaia tells her. "She was crying and in need of feeding. What would you have had me do?"

"I would have thought that you'd be impervious to the sound of children crying by now," Yennefer says.

Tissaia is surprised how much the jibe hurts. She's heard far worse over the years. But she lifts her chin and concentrates on the child, watching as her sucking slows and her eyelids droop, she smiles, despite a growing lump in her throat.

"Then perhaps I am not so heartless as you would believe," she says, her voice quiet.

She takes the bottle from the baby's mouth, assured that she is asleep. She moves from the bed, keeping her back to Yennefer as she places the babe in the makeshift crib and adjusts the blankets around her. She strokes a thumb over the tuft of dark hair poking out from beneath the blanket and smiles before standing up and steeling herself back into neutrality before turning to her errant student. Yennefer is looking at her in a way she's never seen before.

"I never said you were-" Yennefer begins, but Tissaia is in no mood for this conversation and brushes it aside.

"I need to check your wound," Tissaia says, moving around the bed. The hand she places on Yennefer's shoulder is more gentle than her voice. "Turn over."

Yennefer hesitates, her gaze lingering on Tissaia's face, before she obeys, turning to give Tissaia better access. Tissaia carefully removes the wad of fabric she'd stuffed in Yennefer's dress, glad to see that the bleeding has completely stopped and the wound clotted over. She nods in approval.

"I need to clean it and then close it," Tissaia says, moving to retrieve a bowl of water, setting it on the bedside table.

"You couldn't have done that while I was unconscious?" Yennefer grumbles.

"I had other, more pressing, things to deal with," Tissaia says, rolling up her sleeves. She regards Yennefer's back. "Your dress is ruined. Do you wish me to rip it further to get at the wound, or would you prefer to remove it?"

Yennefer laughs, glancing over her shoulder. "That's definitely the most formal request to see my tits I've ever had."

Tissaia sighs, ignoring the flare of warmth in her cheeks. Even when she was younger, Yennefer would flirt with anything that moved. She used her wit and her charm to win people over back then, rather than her body, but she always had the skill for it.

"If you're going to be insufferable, I _will_ knock you back unconscious."

"I'll take it off," Yennefer says, pushing herself up. Her arms shake with the effort and Tissaia takes pity on her, helping her into a more stable position.

"You've lost a lot of blood-" Tissaia says and Yennefer looks up, eyes sharp, as they both realise Tissaia's said those words before. "You're weak. Just be careful."

"I'm fine," Yennefer mumbles as Tissaia loosens the fastenings on the back of her dress and helps her to push it off her shoulders and down her arms, leaving her torso bare. Tissaia gathers up Yennefer's hair and pushes it over her opposite shoulder, leaving her free to concentrate on the injury. She dips a clean rag in the water and wrings it out, using it to wipe away the encrusted blood to give her an unobscured view of the wound. Yennefer flinches away from the cool water a few times, but manages to stay mostly still as Tissaia works to make sure the wound is free of debris.

"So." Tissaia says, once the silence has stretched on too long without Yennefer volunteering any information. "Are you, at any point, going to explain how you ended up on my floor with a knife in your back and a child in your arms?"

Sighing, Yennefer shakes her head. "I was escorting Queen Kalis of Lyria home when we were attacked on the road. An assassin sent by her husband, I can only assume. I tried to get her to safety, to keep us moving, but-"

Tissaia nods, satisfied that the wound is clear. She gently dries the area. "The Queen is dead?"

"Yes." Tissaia watches the muscles in her jaw tense. "Although, I wouldn't bother shedding a tear for her. She's no great loss to the world."

"And the squealing hellion you brought with you?" Tissaia asks, turning to observe the child, now sleeping soundly, full of milk. "I assume she's not yours?"

While she wouldn't put it past Yennefer to find a way to have a child, this one doesn't _feel_ like it shares Yennefer's blood. There's not a lick of chaos in her.

Yennefer sighs, resting her head on her knees. "No. She's a princess of Lyria."

Tissaia closes her eyes. "Are you telling me that you have abducted a royal child and brought her to Aretuza?"

Head whipping around, Yennefer frowns. "I have not-"

"Keep your voice down," Tissaia hisses. "My ears cannot take another minute of her crying."

Rolling her eyes, Yennefer does as she's told and lowers her voice. "I didn't _abduct_ her." She turns away. "Her prick of a father sent an assassin after her mother. I have to assume he didn't give a shit about whether or not his daughter was caught in the crossfire."

Tissaia sighs. Uncaring fathers are something of a sore point for Yennefer, understandably. But that doesn't mean that this is an acceptable turn of events.

"And what are you proposing we do with her?" Tissaia asks.

"I don't know, Tissaia," Yennefer's voice is weary, heavier than Tissaia's ever heard it. "I was being pursued by an assassin intent on killing me. I didn't think that far ahead."

"Nothing much has changed there, then," Tissaia snipes before she can stop herself.

Yennefer glares and pulls away from Tissaia, swinging her legs around to stand up, but Tissaia catches her arm. "I apologise. I'm just-" She presses a hand to her forehead. "It has been a stressful few hours. You were bleeding, the child was screaming and I-" She shakes her head. "I'm sorry."

Relenting, Yennefer stays where she is. "My shoulder still hurts."

"It's still open. I need to heal it," Tissaia says, moving closer to Yennefer's new position.

She casts a healing enchantment to close the wound. Yennefer hisses as the spell starts to knit the skin of her shoulder together. Without thinking, Tissaia lays a hand against the bare skin of her back, rubbing gently as the magic does its work.

"Why did you come here?" she asks, trying to keep her voice gentle.

"I think I've already mentioned the man trying to killing me with his giant fucking spider," Yennefer says, trying to look over her shoulder at the wound, which is now almost completely healed.

"Yes, but why _here_?" Tissaia presses. Yennefer has been away from Aretuza for decades. Tissaia has no doubt that she has, in that time, found many places to hide if required.

"I- I don't know." Yennefer shakes her head. "I didn't specifically conjure a portal to come here. For one thing, I never thought it possible." She frowns at Tissaia. "Why don't you have wards up around your quarters? That's foolhardy, Rectoress."

Tissaia hums her agreement, focussed on finishing the healing, and doesn't bother to tell Yennefer that she _does_ have wards up, but that Yennefer seemed to breach them with no effort whatsoever. "So, you're telling me you came here without conscious thought?"

"I just-" She pauses and, for a moment, Tissaia thinks she's not going to continue. But she starts to speak again. "I remember thinking I wanted to be safe. That I wanted to be able to stop running and just breathe for a moment." She glances over her shoulder again. "And I ended up on your floor. Make of that what you will."

Tissaia could make rather a lot of it. She could deduce that Yennefer, for all her bluster and bravado, actually thinks of Aretuza as home. She might conclude that, when all is said and done, Yennefer knows in her heart that Tissaia will do everything in her power to keep her safe.

Rather than say any of this, she stands and rolls her sleeves back down before moving to a set of drawers and locating a sleeping shift. She turns and her words catch in her throat when she sees Yennefer sitting there, topless, on her bed. Despite her somewhat sickly pallor, she is still unnervingly beautiful. Collecting herself, Tissaia clears her throat. Yennefer looks up and Tissaia keeps their eyes locked, pointedly, as she approaches, holding out the garment.

"Here. This might not be what you would normally wear to sleep in, but it will do for tonight."

Yennefer manages a cheeky wink. "Have you put a lot of thought into what I might wear to bed, Tissaia?"

"As someone who had to drag you out of bed on multiple occasions," Tissaia says, lifting an eyebrow. "If memory serves, the answer to that is 'nothing'."

"That could be arranged, if you'd prefer. And my body is _much_ more pleasant to look at these days," Yennefer says, grinning when Tissaia narrows her eyes. "Fine. I'll put this on to spare your blushes." She shakes out the shift and wrinkles her nose. "You were right. This is _nothing_ like what I'd choose to sleep in." She stands and wobbles on her feet. Tissaia steps closer and grasps her arm, keeping her upright.

"As I said, you-"

"Lost a lot of blood, yes." Yennefer rolls her eyes. "And once again I find myself in your debt for saving my pitiful life."

"You probably wouldn't have died," Tissaia says, averting her eyes as Yennefer shimmies out of her ruined dress, staying close in case she loses balance again. "Unless infection had set in." To distract herself from Yennefer's now almost completely naked body, Tissaia picks up the sleeping shift and yanks it over her head, pulling it down over her shoulders.

Yennefer watches her quizzically as they work together to get her arms in the correct holes. "I could have done that myself."

Tissaia rolls her eyes. "And taken all day about it, no doubt." She nods to the bed. "Get in before you fall down."

Yennefer all but collapses back to the bed and Tissaia lifts her legs in. She's pulling the blankets up when Yennefer catches her wrist and she looks up at her. Her eyes have gained a little more of their usual vitality, though her eyelids are heavy, and her lips have curled into their usual smirk.

"Will you be joining me, Rectoress?" she asks, her voice low. "It is your bed, after all. I would hate to keep you from it."

Tissaia swallows and takes a breath in the hope of stemming the heat rising up her neck before Yennefer notices. "I am going to gather what is needed to deal with the infant you have acquired," she tells her, gruffly.

A thumb traces up her wrist, under her sleeve. "You won't turn her into an eel while I'm asleep, will you?"

The gentle teasing eases a little of the tension in Tissaia's shoulders and she rolls her eyes, tucking the blankets more snugly around Yennefer. "I'll try to refrain from doing so," she says, stepping far enough away that Yennefer has to let go of her arm. "Try to rest. We'll talk about the child in the morning."

Yennefer nods, her face losing its mirth and settling into something more genuine. "Thank you," she says, quietly. "You didn't need to do all this." She blinks, her eyes staying closed for a little longer than they should. "After how I left things here, with you, you'd have been within your rights to throw me out."

Tissaia pauses. The apology had been unexpected, the acknowledgement of their past even more so. But it's late and Yennefer does need rest. So she just nods. "You were my charge once, Yennefer. While you clearly think me emotionless, I do...care for my girls."

Lips twitching into a soft smile, Yennefer's eyes grow heavier by the second. "I wish you'd told us that back then."

Tissaia closes her eyes, inhaling through her nose. She has no answer for that. Her manner has always been to show her girls the harsh realities of life. To make them resilient and strong. What good would it do for her to coddle them when others would not? She opens her eyes to respond, but finds Yennefer has fallen asleep. Her mouth is slightly open, her lips puff out with each slow breath she releases and Tissaia's stomach clenches at the sight. She makes herself turn away, pushes down whatever inconvenient feelings might threaten to surface.

When she has almost centered herself, there's a rustling from the crate and Tissaia lets her head tip back to look at the ceiling just as a slow wail starts up.

It seems like she's in for a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

After Haethys drops off various baby essentials concealed in a food trolley, the rest of the night blurs into a continuous cycle of feeding, changing and rocking the baby. It never ends. Somewhere just before dawn, it seems like she's finally sleeping soundly, making the odd little bleating sound that makes Tissaia hold her breath in case it indicates she's about to wake up again.

Tissaia feels like she's been through a battle. Her arms ache from holding the child, her eyes hurt from being awake and her head is throbbing from all the noise.

And yet there's a tenderness in her heart that prevents her from resenting the child in any way. Something deep within her knows that the baby is only doing what comes naturally to her. She _does_ resent Yennefer a little for her ability to sleep through it, but she bears no ill-feeling towards the baby.

She collapses onto the empty side of her bed, utterly exhausted. She knows she won't be able to sleep. Her body won't allow her to fall properly into slumber as long as she has to listen out for the child. She sighs, turning to look at Yennefer, still deeply asleep beside her. It's difficult to tell in the candlelight, but she looks to be faring much better. Some of the colour has returned to her cheeks and she looks more like herself. That, of course, is likely to bring more trouble.

Tissaia closes her eyes and lets out a breath, wondering if her bed has ever been quite so comfortable before.

She's sure her eyes have only been shut for a few seconds when she's woken up again. The crying this time is different. More like a whimper than a scream. She sighs and forces herself to sit up. Light is peeking around the edges of the curtains, so the sun has risen. She crosses the short distance to the crate and finds the baby awake and agitated, but not particularly upset. She places a hand on her tiny chest, rubbing her thumb back and forth. The action seems to settle her, but her eyes remain open, flicking around, not fixing on anything in particular.

"You _can't_ have had enough sleep," Tissaia murmurs. "I know I haven't, so you can't be ready to face the day yet."

The child, of course, does not give any sign than she has understood, or even heard.

"You're not shrieking for milk." She leans closer, sniffing tentatively. "And you don't appear to need changed. Thank the Gods." _That_ had been quite an experience.

She looks down at the very awake child and sighs. It seems as if she doesn't plan on going back to sleep any time soon, but Tissaia's body needs rest. She looks over her shoulder at the large, inviting bed and comes to a decision. Gathering the child gently into her arms, she moves back to the bed. She lays the child down in between herself and Yennefer and then climbs in, turning on her side so she can keep an eye on both of them.

The baby seems content enough to lie and kick her little legs and make strange gurgling noises every so often. Tissaia runs her fingertip over her hair, smiling at how impossibly soft it is.

"You're not going back to sleep, are you?" Tissaia smothers a yawn, wondering if it's considered very bad form to put a baby under a sleeping spell. Probably. She sighs. "I will never complain about my idiotic girls again. At least they can generally fend for themselves." She notes that the baby reacts to her voice this time, kicking more and stretching her little arms out. She looks at Yennefer, to determine if she's definitely still asleep and then back down at the babe. Her lips quirk into a smile, and she begins to sing a song she remembers her own mother singing, when she was a child.

" _Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile  
_ _Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile  
_ _Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile  
_ _Mo shoraidh slàn leat 's gach àit' an téid thu."_

The language is all but dead now, lost to the ravages of time and conquest. Tissaia's homeland has long since disappeared. Eaten up by invading kingdoms, renamed and recultured. But in her heart she still sees the rolling hills, purple with heather and fragrant with thyme. As a youngster she had run through the endless fields down to the small harbour to watch the boats return, brimming with their gleaming silver bounty.

" _'S tric mi sealltainn on chnoc as àirde  
_ _Dh'fheuch am faic mi fear a' bhàta  
_ _An tig thu 'n-diugh na 'n tig thu màireach  
_ _'S mar tig thu idir gur truagh a ta mi."_

The words come easily to her, though she has not thought of them, let alone sung them, in centuries. She inhales to sing the chorus again, but a slight movement catches her attention and she looks up into violet eyes, watching intently. Heat floods her cheeks and she snaps her mouth shut.

"Don't stop," Yennefer whispers, her eyes dipping to the child. "She likes it." She smiles. "Please?"

There's no guile in Yennefer's words. The compliment appears genuine, and that alone compels Tissaia to do as she's bid. She continues to sing, focussing on the baby, smiling when tiny fingers wrap around her pinkie and hold on. She only looks at Yennefer once as she sings, and finds her looking back at her instead of at the child, a look akin to wonder on her face. She studiously avoids her gaze after that.

When she finishes the song, she presses her lips together, eyes still cast downwards. The baby finally releases her grip on her finger.

"I didn't recognise that language." Yennefer says, breaking the silence between them. "What was the song about?

"It's-" Tissaia clears her throat, sitting up. She turns so her legs hang over the edge of the bed. "It's about loving someone inappropriate. Someone you know won't- can't love you back." She stands, moving over to pick up the blankets the baby had slept in, shaking them out and folding them. "The usual nonsense bards find to write songs about."

"You have a beautiful voice," Yennefer says. "I didn't know you could sing."

_I've never heard such a sweet voice._ Her mother's words ring in her head. _My little Skylark._

"Why would you know that?" Tissaia asks, bustling around and trying to find something to occupy her hands.

"Because people who've known each other as long as we have sometimes know such things about the other."

"As long as-" Tissaia laughs, shaking her head. "Yennefer, I haven't seen you for more than thirty years. I don't know you at all."

"Hmmm." Yennefer turns onto her back and closes her eyes. "I always thought you knew me better than anyone. Always thought you could see into my soul." She turns her head to look at Tissaia. "Could you?"

Tissaia can't help but smile. "No. Not quite." She sighs. "You don't get to my age without learning to read people, Yennefer. That's nothing to do with magic." She lifts an eyebrow. "Stop being so reckless and you might live long enough to learn how."

Yennefer rolls her eyes. "With you around to keep saving my life, of course I will."

"I won't always be there, Yennefer," Tissaia says, keeping her voice even so as not to startle the baby. "You need to start being more careful." She shakes her head. "What if you hadn't had enough energy to portal here yesterday? If infection had set in, or the assassin had a slightly better aim, you'd have been dead on some beach and I'd be none the wiser."

Yennefer smiles as the baby grasps her finger, as she had done with Tissaia's holding onto it with her whole fist. She looks over at Tissaia. "But I _did_ have the energy. And you _did_ save me."

Tissaia sighs. "That's not the point."

"I know. I know." She sticks her tongue out at the baby. "I'll be more careful in future." Before Tissaia can respond, she changes the subject. "Did she sleep through the night? I never heard her cry."

"Yes, I noticed you didn't stir," Tissaia observes. "She woke three times, looking for milk." Tissaia clears her throat and moves to the window, peeking through the curtains. "I fed her and she quietened down soon enough. Sleep and food appear to be her only concerns." She turns to look over her shoulder at the bed and ignores the strange twisting in her chest at the sight of the pair of them. "But when she awoke this time she appeared to have no immediate needs and yet I cannot persuade her to go back to sleep."

Letting the curtain drop back into place, she comes back over to the bed and sits on its edge. She puts her forefinger on the baby's chin, stroking gently. The baby turns to look up at her, squirming and kicking. Yennefer laughs.

"She likes you."

Tissaia rolls her eyes at the notion of such a young child having the ability to 'like' anyone or anything. "She associates me with warmth and milk, that is all." She removes her hand, settling it in her lap. "When you start feeding her, she'll _like_ you just the same."

Yennefer's smile falters and she looks up, her brows lowered. "I- I used to help my mother care for my brothers and sisters, when I was young. Until my stepfather saw them growing attached to me." She looks back down at the child, forcing a smile. "That's when he decided I should sleep with the pigs. In case I tainted his offspring with my ugliness and deformity. Until you took me off his hands, of course."

The day is ingrained in Tissaia's memory. She's had many dealings with parents over the centuries. Some cling to their daughters, unwilling to let them go off with a stranger. Others are glad to be rid of a mouth to feed, happy in the knowledge that their child will get three meals a day and a warm bed. Yet others are proud to hand a daughter over to Aretuza, to know that she will have power and influence. Yennefer's stepfather, it was clear for all to see, didn't even regard her as human.

"That day, when I-"

"Bought me," Yennefer puts in, and nods. "Yes, go on."

Tissaia twists her hands together. "I never meant to-" She stands and walks to the dressing table, adjusting some strands of hair that have come loose from her bun overnight. "I never meant to make you feel worthless. I knew, even then, how powerful you were. How different you were."

"Then you're even better at hiding things than I thought," Yennefer observes. "Because you did not give that away at all."

"Well, I could hardly have your poor excuse for a father believe he had something of value, could I?" Tissaia says. "I had to make sure he thought you were of little interest to me."

" _I_ thought I was of little interest to you, Tissaia." Yennefer's eyes are bright in the candlelight. "And not just that day. For a long time afterwards."

"Yes. Well." Tissaia looks at the rug. "That is my manner, I'm afraid. I'm not- My skills don't lie in affection or encouragement."

She hears Yennefer sigh and looks up to find a smile on her face. "You had your moments," she says, finally. "Granted, they were few and far between, but-" She bites her lip and nods. "Getting a smile, or a word or two of encouragement from you...that would keep me going for days, weeks at a time." She rolls her eyes. "Oh, how I craved your approval."

A thought passes through Tissaia's mind to ask about the use of the past tense, but she dismisses it, knowing it would likely cause an argument. Instead, she decides to move the conversation to safer, more practical, topics.

"I'm going to arrange for breakfast to be brought up," she tells Yennefer. "You haven't eaten a thing since you got here and the child will no doubt be looking for more milk before long." She lifts an eyebrow at the baby. "It's impossible to fill her, small though she is."

"I could do with something to eat," Yennefer says, stretching her arms over her head. She looks down at the nightgown she's wearing. "And a change of clothes."

"All in good time," Tissaia says, heading for the door, grateful to have a task that removes her from the room.

* * *

After a brief conversation with Haethys, arranging breakfast and asking a few more questions about infant care, Tissaia returns to find Yennefer has borrowed a dressing gown from her wardrobe and is waltzing around the room with the baby in her arms. She watches for a moment, glad to see Yennefer up and about.

"I see you're feeling much better," she notes.

Yennefer looks in her direction. "She was crying. This seemed to calm her."

"Only because she's trying to keep the contents of her stomach down, I should imagine," Tissaia says. She catches Yennefer's elbow as she passes, gently pulling her to a halt. They both hold their breath, but the baby doesn't start crying and looks quite content nestled in Yennefer's arms.

Tissaia adjusts the blanket around the baby slightly, covering her arm. She asks the question she should have asked as soon as Yennefer woke up the first time.

"What are you planning to do with her? Return her to her family?"

"To the father who tried to have her killed?" Yennefer scoffs. "No, I will not condemn her to a life of knowing she's not wanted. That she's less than. No child deserves that."

Tissaia presses her lips together, clasping her hands at her waist. Yennefer walks to the opposite side of the bed, cradling the child against her shoulder, rubbing her back.

"Do you know her mother offered the child's life to save her own?" Yennefer laughs, bitter and brittle. "I don't even know why that surprises me. I've seen enough of the world to expect such selfish acts."

"So you intend to keep a child of royal blood and hope that no-one notices?" Tissaia asks.

"I'll say she's mine," Yennefer says, with a shrug. "I'll say I found a cure. A way to bear a child. And that I kept the pregnancy hidden for fear of something going wrong." She turns to face Tissaia. "I'll say the birth was difficult and I came to you for help."

Tissaia closes her eyes and inhales through her nose, willing her frustration to dissipate. "A near newborn child has just gone missing while in your care, Yennefer," she finally says, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Her mother lies dead somewhere. Murdered. You turning up in public with a shiny new babe in your arms will immediately raise questions. Her father will be duty bound to act."

"Her father didn't want her!" Yennefer shouts.

"That doesn't mean he'll openly admit to attempted infantacide!" Tissaia sighs, pacing the length of the room. "We have to _think_. We have to be clever."

Yennefer smiles. "We?"

"You have involved me, have you not?" Tissaia gestures to the room, the bed. "I've kept you concealed here, tended to your wounds, taken care of the child. I'm implicated in your criminal activities."

With her lower lip slightly protruding, Yennefer tuts. "And here I thought it was perhaps just because you liked me."

"Believe me, Yennefer, if I didn't _like_ you, you'd never have gotten away with your little stunt with King Virfuril. Embarrassing the Brotherhood the way you did?" Tissaia rolls her eyes. "Who do you think kept them from your door all these years?"

"You?" Yennefer tilts her head. "That does surprise me. I assumed I'd embarrassed you worst of all."

"It's of no consequence now." Tissaia says. In the hope of steering clear of her defense of Yennefer over the years, she moves to another topic they really should have covered before. She sighs, moving across the room and laying a hand on the baby's back. "What's her name?"

"I don't know," Yennefer says. "Her mother likely told me but I was trying not to listen to her incessant babbling."

"Well, if you're intent on keeping her, you'll need to be able to call her something." Tissaia shrugs. "You may as well be the one to choose it."

"Based on harrowing personal experience with your choice of names, I certainly won't be letting _you_ name her." Yennefer tilts her head. "I'll give it some consideration."

"Good. Now you shou-" A yawn overtakes Tissaia and she covers her mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night."

"That would explain why you look like shit," Yennefer observes. "You should sleep. I'm perfectly well. I can look after her."

"I cannot sleep, Yennefer," Tissaia says, ignoring the jibe about her looks. "I have duties to fulfil. I have classes to teach and meetings and-"

"And you can tell one of the servants to put in your apologies. At least for this morning," Yennefer says. "You're exhausted."

It's odd to have someone express care or concern for her wellbeing. It's been a long time since anyone has. Once more, she's taken back to her childhood, her mother sitting beside her with a cool hand on her fevered brow. The memory presses at the back of her eyes, making them sting. She turns away to compose herself, clearing her throat and blinking.

"I- I really can't-"

"Yes, you can," Yennefer says. "This place isn't going to fall down if you take a day for yourself, Tissaia."

She sighs. Her body is crying out for rest. She knows she wouldn't perform at her best in any of her duties if she were to undertake them in this state. In addition to that, she'd be worried about what Yennefer was up to if she were to leave her alone for a full day.

"I'd have to make arrangements," Tissaia says.

"Good." Yennefer grins like she's won some grand victory. "Make them."

There's a nudge against the wards Tissaia has set up around her quarters and she quickly discerns that Haethys has arrived at the door to her office with breakfast. She drops the wards and magically opens the door.

"Stay here," she tells Yennefer. Then, after a moment's thought. "Give the child to me."

She watches as Yennefer's arms tighten around the precious bundle, how her eyebrows slant in concern.

"What are you going to do with her?"

"I'm going to let someone who knows a thing or two about childrearing to have a look at her. Just to be sure everything is as it should be." Tissaia holds out her arms and lifts her eyebrows. "I would never endanger the child, Yennefer. I trust this woman, But I'd rather she didn't know you were here. She doesn't need to be burdened by another secret."

It takes a moment, but the worry creasing Yennefer's brow falls away. With a sigh, Yennefer transfers the baby to her arms. "Well-" She rolls her eyes. "Against all odds, it appears that I trust _you_. Don't make me regret it."

It's spoken so simply and easily, and yet, given their history, it is an immense privilege. Tissaia nods and waits until Yennefer has retreated out of sight before she opens the door to her office. Haethys waits by a trolley laden with food. When her eyes land on the child they light up, her smile deepening the lines on her face.

"This is the little thing that's been vexing you so?" she asks, coming closer. "Oh my, but she's a pretty one." She runs a wrinkled hand over the child's hair, a thumb over her soft cheek. Despite her words to Yennefer, Tissaia feels oddly protective of the baby, and has to stop herself from pulling her away from Haethys' gentle touch.

"Does she seem healthy to you?" Tissaia asks. "She's eating and sleeping-" She lifts an eyebrow. "-albeit only for short bursts. And she's given no outward signs of pain or distress."

"She seems perfectly content." Haethys unfolds the swaddling and inspects the tiny body cradled in Tissaia's arms. "She's got some meat on her bones and good colour in her cheeks. She's been cared for."

"Good." Tissia nods, smiling down at the child, more relieved than she thought she would be. "I thought as much, but I wanted to be sure."

Haethys looks up at her, as she rocks the child gently. "Is this to be an ongoing arrangement?" she asks. "You concealing a mysterious child in your chambers?"

"No." Though her answer is definitive, she has no clue as to how the situation is to be resolved. She just knows she cannot hide two people in her quarters for much longer without them being detected. "No, she'll be leaving soon."

"Very well. But you tell whoever it is you've got hidden in there-" She nods to Tissaia's bedchamber. "-to take good care of this little one, you hear?" Haethys smooths the blanket down and smiles. "She's precious."

"I will." Though there's a strange twist in her stomach when she thinks of parting from Yennefer and the child. "Thank you, Haethys. Oh, and one final favour? Could you spread the word that I am unwell and won't be taking my classes or attending any meetings today?"

"Of course." Haethys passes a hand over the baby's head again and she fusses a little at the disturbance.

"Come now, little one," Tissaia murmurs. "You've been through much worse than that in your short life." The child settles and Tissaia smiles. A chuckle from Haethys pulls her attention away. "What?"

"Nothing." Her grey eyes dance with mirth. "I just never thought I'd see the day. Tissaia De Vries cooing over a baby."

Tissaia lifts her chin, trying to claw back some of her dignity. "Yes, well, that will be all, thank you, Haethys."

"Of course, Rectoress." She comes close and strokes the baby's forehead with her wizened thumb. "Ess yeá, baeg yn."

With a final nod to Tissaia, Haethys leaves. Tissaia refortifies the wards around the room and sighs.

"You can come through," she calls.

The door opens almost immediately, so she surmises that Yennefer was listening in on her conversation. Yennefer's eyes flick first to Tissaia and the child, as if assessing they are alright, and then to the trolley of food, a smile breaking over her features.

"Thank the Gods. I'm starving." She uncovers a platter of fat sausages, picking one up and biting into it. Grease runs off the end of her chin and Tissaia wrinkles her nose.

"Is this how you behaved in Aedirn?" she asks. She shakes her head. "Bring it through to the table, at least.

Yennefer rolls her eyes, cheeks bulging, but she dutifully follows Tissaia with the food. Tissaia finds her own stomach rumbling as Yennefer transfers the plates to the table and the smell of food reaches her nose. The baby is still awake, still content. Unwilling to risk a crying fit by putting her down, Tissaia takes a seat, arranging the child more comfortably in her arms. Yennefer, of course, has not waited for her and is piling food onto a plate. Tissaia allows herself a smile as she watches, relieved to see her so full of life.

She sets about fixing herself some tea with one hand, which is a little fiddly, but she manages fine. When it comes to slicing the small loaf, however, she hesitates.

"Do you want me to take her?" Yennefer asks, her mouth full, one side curled up. "Or you can keep hold of her and I can feed you, if you'd prefer that?"

Tissaia shakes her head, though her cheeks grow warm at the suggestion. "I see the years have made you no less impudent."

"I think you secretly enjoy my impudence, Rectoress." Yennefer grins and tears a piece of bread in half. "I think perhaps you always did."

When she thinks back on Yennefer's time as a student, she has to admit it is with a rather large degree of fondness. Yennefer had been troublesome, of course. She had pushed and cajoled and challenged Tissaia at every turn. But it was, generally, with the purpose of wanting to learn more, become better. Life had dealt Yennefer a terrible hand, but where it would have made a lesser person retreat inwards, becoming cowed and subservient, Yennefer had grown to be bold and brave, a force to be reckoned with.

"And where would you get the impression that I enjoy ill manners and disrespect?"

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps from the fact that, despite being shit at _everything_ , for a _long_ time, I never ended up in the eel pond?" Yennefer tilts her head. "And I _always_ respected you, Tissaia."

Tissaia is grateful she had not been sipping her tea at that moment, or it would have exited her mouth in a most undignified manner along with the bark of laughter. "I beg your pardon?"

"I did!" Yennefer protests. "Perhaps it didn't always come across that way, but I held you in very high regard."

"Well, that's-" Tissaia clears her throat, thrown by the admission.

"Perhaps neither of us is skilled at showing people how we feel, hmmm?" Yennefer suggests.

Tissaia smiles softly, glad of the reprieve. She nods. "Perhaps we are even more alike than I had realised."

Nodding, Yennefer uses bread to wipe some egg from her plate and pops it into her mouth. She stands, dusting her hands together, and approaches Tissaia. "Give her to me. You need to eat and then you need to sleep."

She allows Yennefer to take the child and sits back, stretching out her arm. It's amazing how such a tiny thing can put any strain on muscles at all, but it has. She watches as Yennefer sits back down, talking animatedly to the baby. Tissaia spreads honey on a piece of bread and continues to watch them as she eats it, enchanted by Yennefer's ability to sound as if she is conversing with the child.

"And Tissaia tells me that you kept her up all night, is that the case?" She waits, lifting her eyebrows and nodding. "Oh, you just wanted to annoy her, did you? I can understand that feeling. I used to annoy her quite often."

"Used to?" Tissaia asks.

Yennefer ignores her. "It's the easiest way to get her attention, isn't it?" Yennefer's eyes flick briefly over to her and then back to the child. "I wanted her to pay attention to me, even if it was to shout at me. As long as she noticed me."

"Yennefer-" Tissaia begins, but Yennefer stands and moves away from the table.

"Sorry, I...I don't know why I-" She heads for the door. "I'll leave you in peace to get some rest."

Tissaia sighs as the door closes behind Yennefer.

"I always noticed you," she whispers, to the empty room.

* * *

She attempts to sleep, but it doesn't come. She lies in bed, plagued by worry and guilt. If she'd just been that bit kinder to Yennefer, if she'd just shown her a little bit of affection, perhaps both of their lives would have been different. Those thirty years of estrangement need never have happened. Tissaia could have continued to guide and mentor Yennefer through the difficulties of life at court. It wouldn't have been one-sided, of course. In return, Tissaia would have retained one of the few relationships in her life that didn't bore her to tears. Perhaps they'd have grown closer, become friends, even.

Perhaps-

She throws back the covers before any further thoughts can intrude. With a sigh, she washes and dresses, ensuring that she looks presentable before she opens the door to her office. She finds Yennefer seated behind the large desk with her feet propped up on it, leaning back in the chair. She is also dressed in a dress she must have conjured, for she didn't find it anywhere in Tissaia's quarters. It looks like it has been cut from the midnight sky; black velvet with pinprick jewels that sparkle with movement. The fabric dips low on Yennefer's chest, the neckline accentuated with larger stones in the shapes of the stages of the moon. It is exquisite.

"Did you sleep?"

Tissaia forces her eyes to meet Yennefer's. She nods. "A little."

Yennefer nods to the crate on the floor beside her, containing the sleeping child. "She's asleep. She's been fed and changed, so she'll hopefully stay that way for a little while."

"Good." Tissaia can't resist the temptation to bend and pull the blankets more snugly around the baby, brushing her knuckle over her cheek and smiling.

"Oh. And I've thought of a name," Yennefer announces.

Tissaia stands and shoves Yennefer's feet off the desk, ignoring her huff of displeasure. She nudges her shoulder until Yennefer vacates her chair and she sits, arranging the items on the desk to her liking. "And, are you going to tell me what it is?"

Yennefer has taken up Tissaia's previous position, crouched by the sleeping child. She smiles down at her. "Reina."

"Reina?" Tissaia closes her eyes, and pinches the bridge of her nose. She's sure she can feel a headache coming on. "You may as well paint a target on the child's back!"

"Why?" Yennefer frowns. "She wouldn't be the first baseborn child with a regal name."

"Perhaps not. But, and I do wonder if you acquired a head injury yesterday that we didn't notice, I'll say it again-" She sighs. "The daughter of a king has gone missing, whilst in your care, and then suddenly you turn up with a child of the same age whose name means queen?" She shakes her head. "If you mean to keep her, then you must do everything in your power to conceal her identity."

"Then it is an excellent double bluff," Yennefer decides. "Why would I name a child so obviously if I wanted to hide her?"

Tissaia pauses, her eyebrows lowered. "Your version of logic vexes me, Yennefer. Truly."

"Look, the child should have some tie to her heritage. She was born into a royal bloodline. It's not her fault her parents were terrible." Yennefer stares up at Tissaia. "Her name is Reina."

"Fine." Tissaia has no energy for this argument. "But now we must turn to more important matters. You can't stay here."

Having been primed for an argument, Yennefer deflates. She looks at the floor and nods. "I know. I just- I need a few days to find somewhere-"

"I own several properties across the Continent," Tissaia confides. "Not all of them are known to the Brotherhood."

Eyebrows rising, Yennefer stands and moves closer, parking her shapely backside on the edge of Tissaia's desk, her thigh brushing Tissaia's forearm. "Secret houses, Rectoress?" Yennefer purses her lips. "Whatever do you use those for? Indulging your vices?"

"If you would call peace and quiet vices, then yes." Tissaia pushes at Yennefer's hip. "There are perfectly functionable chairs over there." She points to the other side of her desk.

Yennefer rolls her eyes, but does as she's told and takes a seat opposite Tissaia. She lifts her chin. "Where do you propose to send us, then?"

"I have a small house, a cottage, really, on An Skellig." Tissaia watches Yennefer's face for a reaction, but gets none. "It's far from Aedirn and Lyria, you would not be known there." She waves a hand and a vial from a nearby shelf levitates to her. "When you get there, you can use this to cast a familiarity charm on the locals. It will be as if you have always lived there, so you won't be questioned."

"And after that am I to live as a common person?" Yennefer asks, taking the small bottle and turning it over in her hands, watching it shimmer. "Without magic?"

"You are to live as you choose," Tissaia tells her. "But be aware that you no longer only have yourself to think of." She nods to Reina, still asleep in her crate. "Your actions will now have consequences for her as well as you." She inhales slowly. "I trust that you will make good decisions about your life together."

Yennefer nods. "We should leave soon. You're clearly concerned about our presence here."

"The sooner you leave these walls, the safer you'll be," Tissaia agrees, though it pains her to say so. "The cottage is furnished and well kept. I can arrange for some food for you to take, along with the child's bottles and such. Anything else you need you can buy at the local market." She folds her hands in her lap. "Are you certain this is what you want, Yennefer? A quiet life? No power nor influence?"

"A life that _means_ something," Yennefer says. "Before she died, the Queen said that, to her daughter, she was the whole world." She shakes her head. "That's- that's all I've ever wanted; to be important to someone. To _matter_."

"You have always _mattered_ Yennefer," Tissaia says, her voice tight.

"To who?" Yennefer asks, violet eyes bright with tears. "To the father who sold me? To the mother who let him? To the lover who betrayed my secrets?" She presses her lips together, but Tissaia still sees them tremble. "To you?"

"Yes." The answer takes them both by surprise, leaving them staring at one another. Tissaia wets her lips and closes her eyes. "As you said, you never ended up in the eel pond."

"Oh, and that's the measure, is it?" Yennefer scoffs. "'You matter enough for me not to remove your humanity'?" She wipes at her eyes. "Forgive me if I don't swoon, Rectoress."

"How about 'you matter enough for me to risk my position, my reputation and potentially my _life_ by protecting you and your abducted child'," Tissaia says, her voice clipped. "Is that enough for you?"

Yennefer has the good grace to look embarrassed. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Tissaia finds that she's breathing quickly, her heart thumping in her chest. Yennefer always manages to get under her skin. She swallows and takes a steadying breath. "As I was saying, are you sure this is what you want? It's not too late to return the child and go back to Aedirn."

"No." Yennefer shakes her head. "I'm of no consequence there." She nods to the child. "And she's of no consequence to her father. Perhaps we can be of consequence to each other."

"Very well," Tissaia nods. "Then we should prepare for your departure. I will take you both by portal to the cottage. I don't want to risk another use of your chaos within these walls."

Yennefer makes no reply, so Tissaia stands up, ready to make the necessary preparations. When she turns, Yennefer's voice stops her.

"Are you ashamed of me?"

She turns to face the other woman, frowning. "What?"

Yennefer shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but her eyes give her away. "It is a valid question, I think. Are you ashamed that I stole a life at court and then abandoned it?"

Tissaia gives the question the consideration it is due. She wants the best for each of the girls she trains. She wants them to thrive. She wants them to grow in power and wisdom. Happiness, contentedness, she has never given much consideration to. Not even her own. But she answers Yennefer truthfully.

"If your path is to raise this child, and raise her well, then who am I to disagree with that?" She shakes her head. "I am not ashamed of you. You know your own mind. You always have. It's not everyone who would step away from a life of privilege and high society to raise a child." She approaches Yennefer and allows herself a small smile. She cups Yennefer's chin and gently tilts her face up. "I am proud of you, Yennefer."

Yennefer blinks, then covers her mouth and turns her face out of Tissaia's hold, closing her eyes. Tissaia doesn't miss the jumping of her shoulders and the hitches in her breath, so she steps away to let her collect herself. And so that she, too, can get rid of the lump in her own throat.

* * *

Once the preparations are complete, Tissaia watches as Yennefer picks up the crate she is to take with her as a temporary bed for Reina, and hefts the bag with few provisions Tissaia procured from the kitchens for her. Tissaia cradles Reina a little closer as Yennefer turns to face them.

"I'm ready."

Tissaia nods. "Of course." She stands, adjusting her hold on the baby so she is resting in the crook of one arm. With the other, she conjures a portal directly into the small cottage, allowing Yennefer to step through first and then following before closing the portal. Yennefer sets the crate on the floor and Tissaia places the sleeping child in it, tucking the blankets securely around her. Yennefer crouches by the fireplace, conjuring firewood and kindling and blowing gently to set light to it. Tissaia stands and looks around.

"It's not much," she says, running her finger along the arm of a chair and frowning at the dust. A wave of her hand has the room sparkling. "It's a far cry from the finery you've been used to these last few decades."

"So quick to forget my humble beginnings, Rectoress?" Yennefer rolls her eyes. "This is luxury compared to the start I had in life. Reina and I will be just fine here."

Tissaia nods. She notices that Reina's leg is poking out of her blanket and moves over to adjust it so that she's fully covered until the fire has managed to heat the room. There's an ache in her chest that she hasn't felt for many a year, but is recognisable to her as the sorrow of loss. Even though she has known the child for a day at most, she cares for her welfare, she worries for her future.

"Farewell, little one," Tissaia whispers, bending to press a kiss to Reina's forehead. "Be good."

"You'll visit us, won't you?" Yennefer asks, from behind her.

Sighing, Tissaia stands and turns, finding herself very close to Yennefer, close enough that she has to tip her head back to meet her eyes.

"If it were to be noted that I was absent more often than usual, questions would be asked." She shakes her head. "It might put you in jeopardy."

A hand grasps her forearm and squeezes. "Please, Tissaia." Yennefer's eyes are as pleading as her words, and Tissaia already knows in her heart that she will not refuse her anything she asks for. "I- I'm-" She looks down at Reina, sleeping soundly, and then back at Tissaia. "I can't do this by myself."

"Of course you can," Tissaia says, and finds that she means it. She smiles wryly. "Despite all evidence to the contrary, you are a competent, capable, powerful woman, Yennefer." She takes Yennefer's hand from where it grips her arm and holds it. "All she needs is someone to feed her, keep her safe and-" Tissaia falters, but makes herself finish. "-and love her. You can do all of those things. I know you can."

A long moment passes between them, uninterrupted by words, then Yennefer leans in and brushes a soft kiss on her cheek, by her lips, then tilts their foreheads together.

"Thank you." Her whisper warms the air between their faces. "I won't ever forget this."

Tissaia closes her eyes and smiles. "I won't let you."

Yennefer laughs softly, pulling back so they're looking at one another again. "So you _do_ plan to visit, then? If only to remind me of my huge debt?"

"I will try," Tissaia says. "But not for some time. I can't have people suspecting that I had anything to do with your disappearance."

"That's fine," Yennefer is quick to agree. "As long as it's not forever."

Nodding, Tissaia gives Yennefer's hand a final squeeze before letting go and stepping away, putting some space between them. "I must go."

"I know." Yennefer's eyes shimmer in the light of the fire, the stones in her dress dancing in the light. Tissaia doesn't think she's ever seen anything more beautiful in her long life.

"Take care of her," Tissaia says, as she calls up a portal back to Aretuza. "And yourself."

"I shall." Yennefer smiles. "You too. I- I know I asked you to come back, but please don't put yourself in danger to do so."

"I'll be careful," Tissaia promises. She realises that the pair of them are just standing staring at each other again and shakes her head. "Goodbye Yennefer."

"Goodbye Tissaia."

The last thing she sees before she steps through the portal is a single tear running down Yennefer's cheek, catching in the firelight. She closes her eyes against the sting of her own tears as the portal closes behind her.

This isn't her. She's spent several lifetimes controlling her emotions, honing them and using them to her own ends. And this damned girl crashed onto her floor and undid all her work. Undid _her_.

She sniffs and turns, her eyes immediately landing upon one of the blankets Reina had been wrapped in during her brief stay. She picks it up and lifts it to her nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the child it had warmed. Once more her eyes burn and she allows herself to weep, just for a moment, for a child she barely knows.

She has to be strong, now. She has to protect their secret and keep the Brotherhood off their scent. And if that means staying away for longer than she'd intimated would be the case, then so be it. She went thirty years without seeing Yennefer, a few months is nothing if it means keeping her and Reina safe.

She can do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Tissaia sings to Reina is called [Fear a' Bhàtha](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fear_a%27_Bh%C3%A0ta) and is written in Scots Gaelic. You can listen to a version of it [here](https://youtu.be/GHe2H2WOQXs).


	3. Chapter 3

In the end, she lasts one month and one day.

She had tried to be strong because she had meant what she'd said to Yennefer; any visitation would risk her and the child being detected. She was resolved to stay away, to let Yennefer take care of the situation however she saw fit.

But after a month of distraction, irritability and intermittent insomnia, she decides that it has been long enough and that she really should check to make sure Yennefer and Reina are alright. She all but abandoned them in an unfamiliar place, trusting that Yennefer could feed, clothe and care for a newborn child all by herself. After a single day of looking after the child, Tissaia knows how difficult that task is. She really shouldn't have burdened Yennefer with all that responsibility on her own.

That's how she justifies it to herself, at least. If she were being honest with herself, she might acknowledge the strange hollow feeling in her chest that's been there since she stepped back through the portal, as if she left part of herself behind. She might even admit to herself that she spends a large portion of her days thinking about Yennefer, wondering what she's doing or how she's feeling.

So she puts up every ward and spell she can think of to ensure no-one will be able to detect that she has left Aretuza and conjures a portal to take her to An Skellig. When she steps through into the cottage, it looks much different than it had on her last visit. There are fresh flowers in a vase on the windowsill and a pile of wood by the hearth. There are blankets strewn over the back of one of the chairs and a pair of boots haphazardly thrown into a corner.

She smiles; it looks like a home.

She hears no sounds, save for the crackling of the fire, so she heads through to the kitchen just as Yennefer is entering through the back door. Tissaia stops walking, struck by the image of Yennefer in a pair of tight black breeches, riding boots and a loose white blouse. She's never seen her in anything other than dresses before. She doesn't have time to examine her reaction to seeing this because Yennefer's eyes land on her and a huge smile breaks over her lips.

"I knew it was you! I felt you when you arrived."

Before Tissaia can answer, she finds herself gathered into a tight embrace. She brings her own arms up, slowly, and rests them around Yennefer's waist. This is a new development, but she allows it. It's certainly not an unpleasant change.

Yennefer pulls back, still grinning. "I didn't really know how long you meant to stay away, and I've tried not to hope for-" She squeezes Tissaia's hands. "But you're here now." She widens her eyes. "Come! Come and see how big Reina has gotten since you left."

Tissaia allows herself to be dragged out into the small garden, where Yennefer appears to be digging a hole. But Tissaia's attention is drawn to a blanket set out on the grass, with a further pile of blankets on top. Yennefer lets go of her hand and goes to rummage in the pile, pulling a small human out of it.

"Look, Reina! Tissaia has come to visit us!" Yennefer holds the child up for Tissaia to see. "Isn't she gargantuan?"

There is a marked difference in the child's appearance since Tissaia last saw her. She's both longer and chubbier, and she has more hair. She seems more alert and aware of her surroundings and she twists her head around, trying to locate the sound of Yennefer's voice as she speaks. Tissaia steps towards the pair, reaching out with her finger and smiling when Reina grabs and holds it tightly.

"She is," Tissaia whispers. "She's bigger than I expected."

"She changes every day," Yennefer tells her, pressing a kiss to the top of the baby's head. "Before I know it, she'll be talking and walking and answering back."

A ripple of melancholy goes through Tissaia at this thought. That the child will grow and change and she won't be here to see it happen. She'll come each time she is able to visit to find her changed, and have to hear about it secondhand. But she forces herself to give Yennefer a rueful smile.

"A taste of your own medicine, then?" she suggests.

"Oh, she won't be anywhere near as bad as I was," Yennefer says, turning the child to face her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Not this perfect, well-behaved princess."

Tissaia quickly checks their surroundings and scowls. "Must you call her that? "

Yennefer rolls her eyes, but smiles. "People call their children by affectionate names all the time, Tissaia." She tilts her head. "Not _my_ parents, of course, but other, nicer ones do."

_My little Skylark._

"But must you choose _that_ one in particular?" Tissaia shakes her head. "Is her actual name not risky enough for you?"

"What would you suggest I call her instead?" Yennefer asks, lifting her eyebrows. "I'd rather not call her after the progeny of farm animals, if it's all the same to you." Tissaia flushes, but Yennefer continues, unaffected. "It's perfectly common, as affectionate names go. I used to call Sabrina 'Princess' when we were schoolmates."

"I'm fairly certain that wasn't in an 'affectionate' manner," Tissaia points out.

"No, I suppose not," Yennefer says, smiling down at Reina. "But you are my little princess, aren't you?"

Sighing, Tissaia decides this is a battle she won't win and opts to change the subject. "You've settled in, then?"

"We have," Yennefer smiles. "Your cottage is more than adequate for our needs."

"I don't want you to think of it as mine," Tissaia finds herself saying. "It's your home, and you should think of it as such."

Yennefer smiles. "Well, the least I can do is offer a visitor to my home a cup of tea."

"I'd like that," Tissaia says, following Yennefer back inside.

"Here, take her and I'll get the tea ready." Yennefer hands her the child and busies herself in the kitchen area. "In fact, it's almost time for her to be fed. Do you want to give her a bottle while I make tea?"

"Oh, that's-" Tissaia looks down at the child in her arms. Huge eyes stare back at her, darker than they were the last time she looked into them. She smiles. "Yes. Yes, I'd like that."

Yennefer nods to an armchair in front of the fire. "I usually sit there to feed her. Go on. I'll heat her milk and bring it to you."

Tissaia does as she's told, sitting down and arranging the baby so it will be easy to feed her. All the while, dark eyes watch her movements, far more closely than the last time.

"Are you wondering who I am, little one? Hmmm?" Tissaia asks, touching her forefinger to Reina's chin. "Are you wondering why your-" She hesitates, and looks over at Yennefer's back. "How are you referring to yourself?"

Turning to look over her shoulder, Yennefer frowns. "What?"

"To the child, Yennefer," Tissaia explains, with a small smile. "I assume you wish her to think of you as her mother?"

"Oh!" Yennefer turns, bottle in hand. "Well, I _am_ her mother." Shec comes over and sits on the arm of the chair and gives Tissaia the bottle. "Although, if you want to be more specific, I generally call myself 'Mama' when I'm speaking to her."

Tissaia nods and turns back to Reina, whose eyes are now fixed on Yennefer. "You must be wondering why your Mama has handed you off to a stranger." She touches the baby's lips with the teat and immediately she latches on, her eyes now gazing up at Tissaia as if she's the only person in the world.

"There," Yennefer says, softly. "She has completely forgotten about me. You've won her heart."

Tissaia smiles, thinking that the feeling is very firmly mutual. "If only it were this easy when they're older."

"Oh?" Yennefer leans closer, her thigh pressing against Tissaia's arm. "Any hearts in particular you want to win?"

Keeping her attention on the baby, Tissaia wills herself not to blush at the question or the proximity. "I'm referring to the girls I have to deal with. Winning their trust is not quite so simple."

She feels Yennefer laugh softly. "I don't know. If you'd started our relationship by gathering me up in your arms and feeding me milk, I'd likely have been a lot less trouble than I was."

Tissaia looks up at her, notes the cheeky smile and rolls her eyes. "I can't imagine you being anything other than trouble."

"No, probably not," Yennefer concedes with a grin. She nudges Tissaia before standing. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't have enjoyed being curled up in your arms, though."

Sighing, Tissaia shakes her head at Reina. "Your Mama is insufferable, did you know that?"

"Don't tell her that!" Yennefer calls over as she gathers some wet clothing into a basket and hoists it onto her hip, heading outside. "Tell her nice things about me!"

Waiting until Yennefer is outside, Tissaia turns her attention back to the baby in her arms. "There are many nice things I could tell you about your Mama," she says. "None of them make her any less insufferable."

"I heard that!"

Tissaia smiles.

* * *

The visits are frequent, after the first one. She finds herself stepping through a portal at least once a week. Generally it is after she has retired for the evening, when no-one will require her presence or even think to check on her. And so she spends an evening or two a week in Yennefer's home, sitting by the fire with Reina in her arms while Yennefer tells her tales of island life, and how they are fitting in with the folk from the nearest village. She laughs at the more outlandish ones, scolds Yennefer for whatever scandalous behaviour she relates when she sees fit.

One evening after a particularly trying day of meetings with the Chapter, she conjures a portal and steps through, intent on allowing herself to vent her frustrations to Yennefer, who she knows will listen to any criticisms of Stregobor with glee. But when she arrives, she finds Yennefer seated in a chair by the fire, Reina in a carrying basket on the floor beside her, fast asleep. And all of the stress and frustration of the day fall away when Yennefer looks over at her and smiles.

"I wasn't expecting you this evening," she says, her voice quiet so as not to rouse the sleeping babe. "You're later than usual."

"Yes, I hadn't intended to come, but I-" She frowns. "What are you doing?"

Yennefer frowns at her. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm knitting!" She closes one eye and sticks out her tongue as she moves the needles. "Or trying to, at least."

"And when did you learn to knit?" Tissaia asks, oddly charmed by the sight of Yennefer doing something so mundane.

Yennefer sighs, dropping the needles into her lap. "My mother tried to teach me when I was younger, but the movements hurt my back and shoulder too badly so I could never do it." She shrugs as if her former disability doesn't still inform who she is. "I asked an old woman selling yarn in the marketplace for a lesson and I'm trying to teach myself."

"Well, learning a new skill is admirable," Tissaia says, taking the other seat at the fireplace. She reaches between the chairs to flatten out Reina's blankets, smiling when she sees her little face, peaceful in slumber.

"Especially when this one is growing like a weed," Yennefer says. "She won't be in swaddling clothes for much longer."

Tissaia takes a glance at the pile of wool in Yennefer's lap. "And what is it you are making?"

"A blanket," Yennefer says, picking up the bundle to display a fairly uniform square. "I felt that would be easier than anything with sleeves at this point."

"Wise choice," Tissaia says, watching Yennefer's fumbling movements as she picks up where she left off. The clicking of the needles and the heat from the fire soothe her mind and ease the stress from her body and before she knows it, she has relaxed into the chair, turned so she can watch Yennefer and glance at Reina.

After a while, Yennefer looks over at her and tilts her head. "So, you looked extremely pissed off when you arrived. What's happened?"

Tissaia smiles and shakes her head. "Nothing of consequence."

And she realises it's true. On other days, she may well have stewed in anger all evening about Stregobor's transgressions. She would have worked herself up and slept poorly as a result. But here, in this place, it loses its importance.

* * *

_Tissaia, can you hear me?_

Yennefer's voice echoes in her head in the greenhouse one afternoon, tight and panicked. A chill goes through Tissaia's stomach and she moves away from the novices, leaving them to figure out the correct combination of herbs on their own.

_Yes, I can hear you. What's wrong?_

They had agreed that Yennefer wouldn't contact her telepathically in case the magic signature was detected, so Tissaia knows this must be important.

_Reina's ill. She's been feverish and I- I don't know what to do._

Her heart speeds up, thudding against her sternum and she instructs the girls to carry on before stepping out of the room.

_How long has she been ill?_

_She was- I don't know. She seemed tired and irritable yesterday. And then through the night she was distressed and I noticed the fever and now she's just lying there and- Tissaia, I'm frightened._

Tissaia closes her eyes, trying to remain calm so that her own panic doesn't transfer across the bond. _I'll come right away._

She instructs another teacher to take over her class, citing Chapter business as the reason, and heads up to her bedchamber. Once inside the protected walls, she casts a portal and steps through into the living space of the cottage. It's less tidy than it usually is. Blankets and various nightdresses of Reina's are strewn over the armchair and on the rug in front of the fire. There are damp and drying rags, and bowls of water. The air smells of camphor and menthol and sweat.

"Tissaia? We're in here." Yennefer's voice is high and tight and Tissaia hurries in the direction of the bedroom.

There she finds Yennefer seated on her own bed, with Reina stretched out in front of her covered to her chest in a thin sheet. The baby's skin is sallow, though her cheeks glow red, her head hangs limply to the side and she makes no effort to look round at the noise of Tissaia's arrival. Yennefer turns to her with fearful, wide eyes.

"Thank you," she whispers. "For coming. I didn't know what else to do."

"Of course," Tissaia says, laying a hand briefly on Yennefer's shoulder before moving around the bed to sit on the other side of the child. She tilts her head and bends so she's in Reina's eyeline. "Hello little one." Reina's eyes flutter to meet her own, and she blinks sluggishly. Tissaia puts a hand on her forehead, panic rising in her chest again at how warm she is.

"How long did you say she'd had a fever?" Tissaia asks, rolling the sleeves of her dress up and standing.

"Since sometime during the night," Yennefer says, replacing Tissaia's hand with her own. Her eyes close. "It's not getting any better. I- I've tried to keep her cool, but sometimes she shivers and-"

"The fever is attempting to fight whatever is wrong with her," Tissaia says, heading through to Yennefer's herb cupboard in the kitchen. She sifts through bottles, pulling them out and reading the labels. She grabs the utensils she will require and a jug of water and makes her way back to the bedroom. "I should be able to mix up a medicine that will bring her comfort while her body heals itself, but beyond that, we must make sure she drinks water."

"I- I should have listened more closely in your healing lessons," Yennefer laments. "I've been no use to her whatsoever."

"Nonsense," Tissaia says, plucking out the right quantities of herbs and dropping them into a mortar. "You've looked after her until you could do no more, and then you called for me. You've done exactly the right thing."

She grinds the herbs into a fine powder and looks over her shoulder at Yennefer. "Can you pick her up? We're going to have to try and get her to drink the mixture."

Yennefer crawls over to Reina, murmuring apologies as she gently lifts her. Reina groans her objection at the movement, but is too weakened to put up much of a fight when, together Tissaia and Yennefer coax her to drink the liquid. When most of it is down, Tissaia nods.

"That should take the sting from any discomfort she is in."

"Now what?" Yennefer asks, rocking the limp body in her arms.

Tissaia sets aside the bottle she'd used for the mixture and sits back on the bed with Yennefer.

"Now we wait. And hope."

The evening is long and torturous for all three of them. Yennefer and Tissaia take it in turns to keep Reina cool and hold her when she whimpers. They sit together once she has finally fallen asleep and watch each rise and fall of her tiny chest.

After midnight has come and gone with no respite, Yennefer's hand slips into Tissaia's and squeezes. Tissia's throat grows sore at the gesture and she squeezes back. Neither of them let go.

At the darkest point of the night, the fever finally breaks. Yennefer weeps with relief, pressing kisses to Reina's cheeks and forehead while Reina blinks and yawns in sleepy confusion. Tissaia allows herself a few tears before urging Yennefer to let the child sleep. Reina falls asleep quickly and it is restful at last. Neither Yennefer nor Tissaia makes a move to get up. It's only when she feels Yennefer leaning against her that she realises she's fallen asleep as well. She eases her down so that her head rests in Tissaia's lap, her hand stroking raven tresses.

Tissaia stays awake for the rest of the night, watching over both of them. She only slips away once dawn has broken, leaving them bathed in sunlight. Safe and warm.

* * *

The visits continue after Reina's terrifying illness and soon Tissaia stops trying to think up excuses to go. To see Yennefer and Reina is reason enough. One evening, long after Reina has been put to bed, Tissaia and Yennefer sit by the fire and enjoy a fine Toussaint red Tissaia had brought with her. The conversation flows with the wine, amiable and pleasant, until Yennefer asks a question Tissaia had not expected.

"Do you ever regret your choices?"

"My choices?" Tissaia looks across at her and shakes her head. "My dear, I had very little choice in how my life turned out. You should know that."

"But surely you made a choice at some point?" Yennefer says, folding a leg under herself so she can turn in her chair and face Tissaia. "For example, you chose to stay at Aretuza, instead of going to court."

"I _did_ go to court," Tissaia says, without thinking. She never discusses her early life with anyone. It was so long ago as to be irrelevant.

Yennefer sits up straighter. "You did? Which one?"

Tissaia looks into her goblet, swirling the little wine that's left around. "It was centuries ago, Yennefer."

"So what harm is there in telling me, then?" Yennefer asks.

Tissaia clears her throat. "Like you, I went to my home kingdom. It doesn't exist now. It was smaller than Aedirn by far and has long since been conquered."

Yennefer sits back and is silent for a long moment until Tissaia feels awkward under her scrutiny. "It's difficult for you to talk about this."

"And yet you continue to question me," Tissaia points out with a glare.

"What happened there?" Yennefer asks, softly.

Tissaia sighs. "Is there no more wine?"

As Yennefer stands to fetch the bottle, Tissaia swallows hard. She wonders if she can get away with just telling Yennefer the basics. She owes her that much, given that Tissaia has been privy to her innermost secrets since she was barely more than a child. Yennefer fills both their goblets and sits back down. Tissaia sips her drink and closes her eyes.

"Much like Cintra, the kingdom was suspicious of Mages. Mages from Aretuza at least. They had strong ties to the Elven folk, but didn't like how Aretuza gathered up mages and leeched their chaos." She swallows thickly, thinking of her own complicity in such actions. "I was...an experiment, one might say. A girl from their kingdom, sent to build bridges between the old and the new."

"It didn't work?" Yennefer guesses.

"No." Tissaia shakes her head. "I-"

It has been years, decades, since she last thought of this, let alone spoke of it. Yennefer is clearly waiting for her to speak again, but she cannot find the words to talk about how impotent she felt in that place. How small and insignificant. How trapped.

A gentle hand unpicks the fingers that have tightened around the stem of her goblet and she looks up to find Yennefer kneeling at her feet. She sets the goblet aside and takes Tissaia's hand, holds it.

"I won't ask anymore," she says, squeezing Tissaia's fingers. "I'm sorry."

"You've done nothing wrong," Tissaia says, her free hand cupping Yennefer's face for a moment before dropping to her lap. "I've stayed too long and drunk too much, that's all. It's time I was going."

"Stay," Yennefer urges. "It's late. And the bed has plenty of room for both of us." She tilts her head and smiles. "It won't be the first time we've shared a bed."

"You were incapacitated the last time," Tissaia points out. "I'm merely tired."

"Fine. Leave me here, all alone," Yennefer says, standing and offering Tissaia a hand, pulling her to her feet.

"You have Reina," Tissaia points out. "I'll be the one who is alone."

"Then stay," Yennefer says, grinning.

Tissaia rolls her eyes and steps closer to Yennefer, leaning in for their now customary hug. Yennefer plants a kiss on her cheek with an obnoxious smacking noise and she shoves her away, smiling.

"Perhaps another night," she allows, tempted by the thought of waking up and breakfasting in the cottage. "I must be up early in the morning to teach classes."

"Very well," Yennefer says, stepping back as Tissaia calls a portal. "I'll see you soon."

There's no longer a questioning inflection. Tissaia nods anyway. "Yes, I'll see you soon."

She steps through the swirling vortex into her apartments. As always, they feel vast and cold after the low ceilings and roaring fire of the cottage. Memories of her days at court seem to have followed her through the portal and melancholy sinks into her bones as she forces herself not to think about it, to push it all down. Those days are gone now, and they should remain in the past. _Must_ remain in the past.

When she goes to bed that evening, she can't ignore the wistful part of her heart that wishes the other side of it was occupied.

* * *

Before they know it, the anniversary of Yennefer's reappearance in Tissaia's life rolls around. Yennefer has decided to treat the day as Reina's birthday, since she doesn't know the date of her actual birth. When Tissaia shows up, Yennefer is just finishing setting out lunch on the table. Winter is fast approaching in this part of the Continent, so the fire is roaring and there are patches of snow visible through the windows.

Reina has been growing and changing every time Tissaia's visited lately. She's started saying a few words, and making some other noises that Yennefer insists are words. But when her eyes land on Tissaia, they light up and she awkwardly pushes herself to her little feet, wobbling in place.

"Reina!" Tissaia says, ready to rush forward and steady her, but Yennefer catches her arm and shakes her head.

"Watch," she murmurs, then smiles at Reina. "Come on, then. Show 'Ssaia what you can do."

On unsteady legs, Reina plods towards her, her little brain clearly working hard with each step. Tissaia covers her mouth and her eyes well up, but she bends and holds her arms out as Reina's steps grow faster, momentum carrying her forward rather than deliberate action. Tissaia gathers her into her arms and picks her up.

"Well, aren't you clever?" she gushes, kissing Reina's forehead. Reina's chubby hands take hold of her cheeks and she's treated to the biggest smile she's ever seen.

"Ssaia!" Reina says, happily. "'Ssaia!"

"Yes, Tissaia's come to see you for your birthday," Yennefer says, leaning in and blowing on Reina's cheek, making her laugh. "Because you're a special girl, aren't you?"

Setting Reina back on her feet, Tissaia shrugs the bag off her shoulder and removes a wooden box. She arranges her skirts so that she can sit on the rug. Reina immediately drops herself into Tissaia's lap, as has become her habit of late. It always chokes Tissaia up a little, that this tiny person has this level of trust in her and _wants_ to be close to her this way.

"As you're such a special girl," Tissaia says, opening the latch on the box. "I brought you a little something for your special day."

It's more than a 'little' something. She'd gone to great lengths to find a woodcarver who would have no clue who she was or where she was from, and commissioned him to create a customised set of building blocks. Each of the blocks is different. Each of them is something that Reina has expressed an interest in during their time together, and most are easy words to say, so should help with her learning. Five of the blocks have the letters of Reina's name, so she can spell it out when she's a little older. Other blocks have pictures of animals, or clouds, or flowers with the name of the object spelled out below.

Reina picks up two of the blocks and starts smashing them together. Tissaia smiles. In the meantime, there is this.

She looks over to find Yennefer tracing the intricate carvings on one of the blocks, her mouth curved in a soft smile. She holds it up for Tissaia to see. It's a piglet. Something passes between them when Tissaia returns the smile; an acknowledgement of where they began and how far they've come.

"They're beautiful," Yennefer says. "She loves them."

"Good," Tissaia says. She's prevented from saying anything further because Reina gives her a block to hold, then another and another until her hands are filled with a pile of them and she has to cradle them against her chest.

"Oh!" Yennefer says, from nowhere, scrambling to her feet. "I have a gift for you as well. I nearly forgot."

"For me?" Tissaia frowns, allowing some of the blocks to fall to the rug, much to Reina's consternation. "Why would you need to give me a gift?"

"I don't _need_ to," Yennefer says, emerging from the kitchen with her hands behind her back. "I _want_ to."

She joins Tissaia on the rug, and thrusts a hand towards her, blushing. "It's nothing fancy, don't get excited."

Tissaia puts down her pile of bricks and takes what Yennefer is offering. It's soft and when she holds it up, she sees that it is a winter hat made from a beautiful turquoise wool.

"The colour reminded me of Aretuza, so I thought you'd like it," Yennefer says. "And your ears get cold so easily when we go for walks that I thought this could help with that. And-"

"It's beautiful, Yennefer," Tissaia says, running her thumbs over the soft wool. She looks up and finds Yennefer trying to hide a pleased smile. "Thank you."

"Well, it's just- you gave me a house, I gave you a hat," she shrugs. "We're even now, yes?"

Tissaia knows a deflection when she sees one, and she's grateful for it. For if they had carried on in their sincerity, Tissaia may have revealed that Yennefer has given her far more than a hat. She has given her a place in the world that is not Aretuza, but where she feels purpose. She has given her something to look forward to at the end of long, stressful days. She has given her-

"Try it on!" Yennefer says, shuffling closer and taking the hat back from Tissaia.

Reina chooses that moment to get up and start gathering up her blocks which have ended up scattered everywhere. Yennefer is very close now and she pulls the hat onto Tissaia's head. It is loose enough to accommodate her bun and provide adequate cover for the rest of her head. Yennefer presses her palms over her ears, smiling.

"Perfect," she murmurs. "Now your little ears won't go that alarming shade of red when we're out for longer than a few minutes."

"You exaggerate," Tissaia grumbles, but does nothing to move away from the proximity. For a fleeting second, she thinks Yennefer's eyes dip to her lips, but then a little hand pops in and covers her face, patting at it. Yennefer laughs and lets go of her, allowing Reina to take her place.

"Do you like my hat, Reina?" Tissaia asks. "Your Mama made it for me."

Reina pats Tissaia's head. "Hat." She smiles. "Hat."

"I think she thinks it's the most wonderful hat she's ever seen," Yennefer decides, getting to her feet and dusting her hands against her breeches. "Now, we really must eat the lunch I've slaved over before it goes cold."

They move to the table. Reina insists on sitting on Tissaia's knee, making eating an awkward experience. At the end of the meal, Tissaia's convinced there's more food in her lap than actually went into Reina. Tissaia helps Yennefer tidy the dishes and remaining food away before the three of them retire to their usual spot in front of the fire. The sun is sinking below the horizon and the fire throws shadows around the small space and Yennefer gets up to light some candles.

Reina plays happily with her assortment of toys and Tissaia's thumb strokes the back of her neck. Warm and full from their meal, Tissaia starts to sing the song she had first sung for Reina when she was a tiny babe, and not this little walking, talking person.

" _Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile,  
_ _Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile-"_

"You sing that song often," Yennefer notes, as she comes to sit beside them, her arm pressed against Tissaia's.

Tissaia hums her agreement, smiling as Reina knocks over the tower she had begun to construct.

"Are you drawn to the subject matter?" Yennefer asks, stretching out on her side so she's facing Tissaia from Reina's other side.

Frowning, Tissaia looks over at her. "Sorry, I'm not following."

"You said the song was about inappropriate, unrequited love," Yennefer presses. She lifts her eyebrows and tilts her head. "Did you once have someone you loved that you shouldn't have? That didn't love you back?"

The question pricks her heart with its poignancy. If only Yennefer knew the feelings Tissaia keeps pent up inside herself during every visit. If only she understood the lonely nights she spends, thinking of this cottage and its occupants. But rather than say any of this, she deflects. "It was a song my mother often sang, that's all. One of the few I remember the words of."

Yennefer purses her lips, not entirely convinced by the look of her. Tissaia is saved from further questioning when Reina pats her face, clearly displeased at her attention being elsewhere.

"'Ssaia sing!"

"Oh, I do apologise, Lady Reina," Tissaia says, bowing her head before kissing Reina's cheek.

She begins the song again. Reina, happy to have gotten her way, plops down in Tissaia's lap and proceeds to pick the pins from her hair. By the time the song is done, Tissaia's hair is completely down at one side and Reina is fast asleep against her shoulder.

"You should put her to bed," Tissaia says, rubbing her back and kissing the side of her head. "This can't be comfortable for her."

"She's fine as she is," Yennefer says, her smile soft as she looks up at the pair of them from her reclined position on the rug. She yawns, covering her mouth. "She's perfectly content."

Tissaia doesn't disagree, happy to have the child in her arms for as long as she can. She presses her nose to the soft head of hair resting on her shoulder, humming the melody to the song. She feels Yennefer's eyes on her and looks over, tilting her head in question. Yennefer looks away, as if she's been caught in a moment, but then looks back, holding Tissaia's gaze.

"Listen, without poking my nose in where it's not wanted," she begins. "I just wanted to say that if you _did_ have someone you loved, then they must have been a fool not to love you back."

The words hit Tissaia squarely in the chest, stealing her breath. Yennefer finally looks away, towards the fire, allowing her respite from the depth of her eyes.

"I should put more logs on," Yennefer murmurs. She looks back at Tissaia and Reina. "You could stay. She'd love to wake up and you still be here."

Tissaia shakes her head. "I cannot, I'm afraid. I've been here most of the day. I must make checks on the girls and- and I have many other duties I have been neglecting of late."

It's somewhat true. But mostly it's an excuse because she can't lie beside Yennefer, not after hearing those words. Yennefer nods, like she expected that answer, and gives her a tired smile.

"It's been a nice day, hasn't it?"

"Yes." Tissaia returns the smile. "It has been a wonderful day."

* * *

True to her word, Yennefer doesn't ask any more about her past. But the more time they spend together, and the closer they grow, Tissaia finds herself wanting to share that part of herself. Things she's never spoken of to another soul. Her own Rectoress had known some of what happened, of course, but never cared how it made Tissaia feel or how it affected her. One day, she's at the cottage, drying dishes as Yennefer washes them, and she starts speaking, quite unprompted.

"I killed my father during my conduit moment," she says, from nowhere.

Yennefer's hands still in the basin of water. Tissaia glances over to find her face free of judgement and full of empathy. Yennefer takes the rag from Tissaia's hands, drying her own and dropping it to the counter. She gently takes hold of Tissaia's elbow and leads her to her usual armchair and sits her down. Yennefer kneels by her feet, holding her hand.

"You must have had good reason, I'd imagine," Yennefer offers.

Tissaia's eyes drop to the rug and she nods once. "He was a brute. He beat my mother, quite viciously." She clears her throat. "She hid it from me while I was younger, of course, but as I grew older I became accustomed to his rages and began to recognise the signs." She traces the back of Yennefer's wrist. "The bruises." She shakes her head. "I was too frightened to intervene. I-"

"You were a child, and he was a full grown man," Yennefer tells her, dipping her head so their eyes meet. "There was nothing you could have done."

Logically she knows that, but it does nothing to assuage the crushing guilt she feels when she allows herself to think on these events.

"One day before I was fourteen summers, he came back from the tavern." She sniffs and dabs at the corner of her eye. Yennefer's hand tightens around hers. "He started an argument, which wasn't out of the ordinary." She closes her eyes. "From nowhere, he lashed out and struck my mother across the face. She obviously wasn't expecting it and she fell, hitting her head on the table. She looked dead." Yennefer's free hand comes to rest on her knee and rubs her leg. "I don't know what happened next, I don't remember it, but when I regained my senses, my father was dead. Burned black." She wrinkles her nose. "There was smoke rising from his body, and the smell-" She has to swallow down bile, even now. "My mother was crying and trying to make me not look at him, but I knew...I _knew_ that I'd done it."

"Oh, Tissaia," Yennefer rests her head against her knee and Tissaia sifts through her hair. "That must have been frightening for you."

"It was-" She presses her lips together and shakes her head. "It was a relief, more than anything. He was gone, and he couldn't hurt my mother anymore. And I- I wasn't sorry that it had happened."

Yennefer turns so that her chin is resting on Tissaia's knee, looking up at her. "You said it was your conduit moment. Were you taken to Aretuza soon after?"

"Yes," Tissaia says, grateful for slightly firmer ground. "The Rectoress came for me, as I did for you. And like you, I didn't want to go with her. I wanted to stay with my mother, to protect her." She sniffs and wipes at her eyes. "But my mother thought it was an opportunity for me. She wanted me to have a life greater than she had been able to have. So I went. And I learned how to control my chaos."

Smiling softly, Yennefer squeezes her hand. "This is why you told me we were alike. That your chaos is driven by your emotions as well. I don't think I ever quite believed it until now." She presses her face against Tissaia's knee. "Even though I _wanted_ it to be true, so badly."

"You reminded me of myself," Tissaia says, looking at the top of Yennefer's head where it rests in her lap. "Your anger, your passion. It frightened me."

Yennefer looks up at her. "Why?"

Tissaia takes a deep breath. "I told you that I went to court, yes?" Yennefer nods. "Well, the King was much like my father. A bad-tempered man, quick to anger, and free with his fists."

"He hit you?" Yennefer whispers, her eyes burning with anger.

"No. Not me." Tissaia shakes her head. "I was adept at avoiding angry men at that point in my life. But his Queen, his sons and daughters...none of them escaped his wrath." She closes her eyes. "And I could feel my control slipping. Every time I saw one of those children with a mark on their face, it crawled beneath my skin, clawing to get out."

"Did you kill him?" Yennefer asks, eyes wide.

"No." Tissaia smiles. The King had met with an unfortunate riding accident not long after Tissaia had left his service, courtesy of his Royal Master of Horses, who had a particular affection for Tissaia. "Do you think I'd have risen to my current position if I'd gone around killing monarchs?" She sobers. "But it showed me that I was not suited to a role at court. I could not control myself well enough and I requested to return to Aretuza, to a teaching role."

"So that's why you are so keen for sorceresses to learn control?" Yennefer muses. "Because you know what it's like to lose it."

"Yes," Tissaia says. "And I don't want that for any of my girls." She strokes Yennefer's cheek. "I know I am hard and unyielding, but it's because I need you all to be sure you can control yourselves under pressure."

Yennefer hums. "Thank you, for telling me all that. I know it must have been difficult."

Tissaia swallows and tries to smile, but shame is climbing her throat, embarrassed at revealing her own failings, her weaknesses.

"Yes, well, now you know." Tissaia withdraws her hand from Yennefer's grip and moves to stand, forcing Yennefer to shift from her position at her feet. She walks to the window and looks out at the moon. "I must be getting back to Aretuza. I-"

"Can you not stay?" Yennefer says, touching her shoulder. "You've spoken about many upsetting things today. I hate to think of you going back there, all alone, with this in your head."

"I've lived with it in my head for many centuries, my dear," Tissaia says, patting Yennefer's hand and slipping out from beneath it. She links her hands on her abdomen and nods. "I must go."

She pushes down the desire to stay here and take the comfort offered to her. She ignores the tugging _want_ in her chest that tells her to let Yennefer embrace her, hold her and make everything feel better. Yennefer takes a step towards her, but she conjures a portal and nods her head with a tight smile.

"I'll see you soon."

"Tissaia-"

She steps through the portal, back to Aretuza, the place that's been her sanctuary for as long as she can remember. It no longer feels that way. It feels like a prison, oppressive and mandatory, when compared with the other part of her life. But her control is slipping. Her desires are becoming too strong and it is unfair of her to think of a life she cannot have, cannot offer to Yennefer and Reina.

The knowing of a thing does not make it any easier to accept, and she doesn't bother to remove her dress before throwing herself onto her bed and weeping.

* * *

When it finally happens, it's Yennefer's fault. Which should not be a surprise, in hindsight. Tissaia is cradling Reina against her shoulder, walking the length of the living area, trying to get her to sleep. When she finally settles, Tissaia stands at the window, twisting at the hips to rock her fully to sleep. Reina's little fist, clutching her dress, loosens its grip as she falls deeper.

"She misses you when you're not here," Yennefer murmurs, chin hovering just above Tissaia's shoulder.

"As I miss her," Tissaia says, a blush dusting her cheek from Yennefer's nearness and the warmth of the room.

Yennefer's next words are the catalyst for everything that follows, everything that's been building for over a year. " _I_ miss you when you're not here."

"Yennefer," Tissaia warns, her hand cupping Reina's head. "You know I have responsibilities to Aretuza, I cannot simply aband-."

"Fucking Aretuza." Yennefer mutters, moving away to lean on the sink. She looks out of the window. "You have responsibilities _here._ "

Tissaia considers that statement. She knows in her heart it is true, but she can't put into words why that should be. She is not Reina's mother. She is not Yennefer's partner. "You're no longer my charge," Tissaia says, quietly.

"No, I'm not." Yennefer turns and lifts her chin. "So what _am_ I?"

Tissaia shifts the sleeping child in her arms as she approaches Yennefer. "What do you mean?"

"To you. What am I to you? Why do you come here so often?" She gestures around at the simple cottage. "You sit by the fire with us and tell stories here. You sing and dance here. You laugh here." Yennefer takes her hand. "Tissaia, you are _happy_ when you are here. With _us._ " She sniffs. "So I'll ask again. What am I to you? What are _we_ to you?"

There is a word that enters Tissaia's head, unbidden. One that she had relegated to the ancient past.

 _Family_.

Yennefer and Reina are her family. When she is with them, she's happy, as Yennefer observed. And when she is not with them, she spends her time wishing she were. In all her decades of life, she has never known loneliness as she has this last year.

Lying in bed in Aretuza, she wonders what Yennefer is doing. She wonders if Reina has made any more sounds that Yennefer insists are words yet. She closes her eyes and dreads sleep, knowing she will dream of a world that cannot be, and awaken in the cold, stark reality where Yennefer will be so close and still so far out of reach.

"You've given Aretuza centuries of your life, Tissaia," Yennefer says, softly. "You don't owe the Continent anything. Conversely, I'd say the Continent is in your debt. It owes you happiness. Contentment."

Fearful that her emotions will get the better of her, Tissaia walks swiftly to Reina's bedroom and lays her down, kissing her hair and watching for a moment to make sure she's settled. She stands and inhales before returning to Yennefer.

"This conversation is pointless," she says. "I cannot leave-"

"No, you _choose_ not to leave Aretuza," Yennefer says. "You could name a successor at any point. You have fulfilled more than your duty. You've given them your whole life. Isn't it time to be a little selfish? To do what you want instead of what you must?"

'Want' is not a word Tissaia has had much call for over her long life.

"And you do want to be here with us, don't you?" Yennefer persists. "You want to be here with me?"

Tissaia looks up sharply and then away again, walking to the window. Yennefer doesn't let her escape, however, and follows close behind. Hands land on her shoulders and she closes her eyes.

"You are important to me," Yennefer whispers. "You always have been, despite what I may have told myself. And this past year-" Yennefer pauses. "I want this, Tissaia. I want you to stay here with us. I want us to have a life together. And I'm fairly certain you want that too."

"Don't ask this of me," Tissaia whispers.

"I'm not asking anything of you. I'm telling you what I want." Yennefer says. "How you react to that is up to you."

"And that's what's always been important, isn't it?" Tissaia says. "What _you_ want?"

"Yes," Yennefer says. "I spent my childhood shovelling shit and sleeping with pigs. And my life at court wasn't all that different, only the shit I had to deal with was royal shit. Why wouldn't I want something more out of life than that?"

Tissaia shakes her head, but finds she has no comeback. She's never had that opportunity. Or ever thought about it. Until now. Until Yennefer.

"I- I have to go."

"Wait." Yennefer catches her arm and turns her so they are facing each other. Her mouth is set in a firm line, like she is resolved. "Here's another thing that I want."

She leans in, brushing her lips over Tissaia's. Just once. Short. Soft. Perfect. She looks at Tissaia when she pulls away, fear and certainty alternating in her eyes. Tissaia only hesitates for a second before pulling Yennefer back in. The kiss this time is harder, more insistent. Yennefer lets out a noise that Tissaia will remember for the rest of her life. Her hands tug on Yennefer's waist, pulling her as close as she can get. Yennefer's hands come up to frame her face.

Gentle fingers slide behind her ears and into her hair, and she pulls back. Yennefer follows her, resting their foreheads together as they breathe the same air.

"We can't," Tissaia whispers.

"Yes, we can." Yennefer says, rubbing her thumbs over Tissaia's cheekbones. "We _can_." She dips her head to meet Tissaia's eyes. "You want me, don't you?"

Tissaia pushes Yennefer's hands from her face and steps away, wrapping her arms around herself. She shakes her head. "That's- that's not-" She closes her eyes, swallowing. "That's not what's important."

"For fuck's sake, Tissaia," Yennefer shouts, making Tissaia open her eyes. "Of _course_ it's important." She throws her hands out. "It's _everything_."

"No." Tissaia clears her throat. "It's not. Wanting you, that's-" She shrugs. "That's not even-" She shakes her head, forcing herself to look at Yennefer properly. "I don't merely _want_ you, Yennefer."

Yennefer's brow creases and she tilts her head. "What do you mean?"

Tipping her head back, Tissaia laughs without a shred of humour. "What do I mean?" She closes her eyes, tight. "I don't want your body." She inhales and opens her eyes, turning to face Yennefer. "I want _all_ of you. All of _this._ " Now that she's started talking, the words are coming easier. "I've trained hundreds of mages over the years, and not one of them has invaded my thoughts-" She presses a hand to her chest. "-my _heart_ , the way you do." A sob forces its way from her throat, surprising them both. Yennefer takes a step towards her but she holds a hand up to stop her. "I think about you _constantly_. I think about Reina. I think about what you're doing and what I'm missing and I-" She swallows. "I've never... _wanted_ anything, or anyone, the way I want you."

She's not sure of the sequence of events that follows, but somehow she ends up on her knees, with Yennefer's arms around her, weeping. She clings to the other woman's shirt, afraid this might be the last time she's this close to her.

"Tissaia," Yennefer murmurs against her cheek. "You can have this. You can have it all. You can have all of me, I'll gladly give myself to you. But you have to _choose_ it. You have to choose us."

Tissaia turns her face so that her nose brushes Yennefer's, she lets out a shuddering breath that was supposed to be a laugh. "I've always known that you'd be my downfall one way or another."

"Aren't you glad it's such a pleasurable way, then?" Yennefer touches a finger to Tissaia's chin, tipping her face up and bringing their lips together. "In all of my years, I have never experienced a moment more wondrous than this." She kisses her again.

"You're barely fifty years old," Tissaia points out, but doesn't object when Yennefer kisses her again.

"You're considerably older than fifty," Yennefer observes, her eyes on Tissaia's lips before she meets her gaze. "Tell me this isn't the most exquisite feeling you have ever experienced."

"I...cannot," Tissaia says, unable to put up any kind of pretence. She rests her head on Yennefer's shoulder, with a sigh. "But that doesn't mean- Just because it feels this way, I can't just-"

"You can do anything," Yennefer tells her. "Anything at all. Anything you want."

It feels so possible. Sitting here in the warmth and security of Yennefer's arms, it really feels like she could choose this and have it for the rest of her life. She's done her bit for the continent. She's spent lifetimes finding and training girls, seeking out potential and nurturing it for the greater good. She deserves time to fulfil her own needs and desires. Time to nurture herself. She lifts her head and kisses Yennefer, reminding herself of what she could have, what's being offered to her freely and willingly.

"I...I need a little time. I need to think, and plan and-" She touches Yennefer's face. "I need time."

Yennefer nods. "You can have it. All the time you need." She smiles and shakes her head. "That you're even considering this is...more than I dared to hope, if I'm honest."

Tissaia can't help but lean in and kiss the honesty and bravery from her lips, cupping her face with both hands. "As I said, no-one has even taken up residence in my heart like you, Yennefer. You have touched me in ways I never thought possible."

"Oh, I have thought about quite a number of ways to touch you," Yennefer says, with a grin. "I hope to get to try a few at some point."

Rolling her eyes, Tissaia rests her forehead against Yennefer's. "Insufferable," she murmurs.

"You've suffered me this long," Yennefer says, kissing the tip of Tissaia's nose. "I'd wager you'll suffer me a while longer."

"I daresay I will," Tissaia says, tilting Yennefer's face so she can kiss her lips a final time before getting to her feet. Yennefer follows quickly, taking her hand and holding it tight, even as Tissaia conjures a portal with her other hand which will take her away.

"Goodbye, then," Yennefer says. "I'll see you soon."

"Yes, soon," Tissaia promises.

Yennefer holds her hand until it is no longer possible, and she steps through the portal into her bedchamber. As always, after the cottage, it feels vast and unwelcoming. Her eyes fall on her bed, where she has spent years sleeping alone, with no need or want of anyone to share it. It is no longer a place where she looks forward to comfort at the end of a long day. It is now just another empty, cold space. Everywhere she goes within Aretuza's walls feels the same. If Yennefer and Reina are not there, everywhere seems pointless. Her life's purpose no longer feels important.

Anyone could do it.

Anyone could find conduits and bring them here, teach them, guide them.

Not everyone could fill the place Tissaia has with Yennefer and Reina. She knows how to make both of them smile. She knows how to comfort them when they need it. She knows which songs will make Reina dance and which will send her to sleep. She knows how Yennefer's lips feel against her own, how her hands fit around her hips. She knows them and they know her.

And, she realises with a sharp intake of breath, that is what matters. To wake in Yennefer's arms, warm and loved to spend another day where they are together and happy. To be there every morning to see Reina wake up, and hear her learn new words and watch her grow and sing her to sleep. That means more than any role she could fulfil in Aretuza.

Her mind made up, she turns and conjures another portal, stepping through it without further thought. Yennefer is where she left her, standing in front of the fire with her arms wrapped around herself. She looks over in surprise, brow creased but smile hopeful.

"Did you forget something?" she asks.

"I don't need time," Tissaia tells her. "I need you. You and Reina. You're all I need. All I want."

Yennefer covers her mouth with a hand, eyes filling with tears. "Really?" she whispers.

"You were right earlier," Tissaia tells her. "I'm happy when I'm here, in a way I never quite understood was possible. When I'm not here, I'm thinking about being here. When I'm not with you and Reina, I'm thinking about the pair of you, wishing I were with you." She wipes at a tear that has escaped her eye. "I _want_ to be here with you."

"This is really happening, isn't it?" Yennefer asks. "I've not fallen asleep in the chair?" Her hands find Tissaia's hips, but they're tentative, like Tissaia might shatter in her grip. "I'm not dreaming?"

Tissaia reaches up to the back of Yennefer's neck and gently pulls her down into a kiss. Yennefer's arms go around her, pulling her close.

"You're not dreaming," Tissaia tells her, between kisses.

"Good. Because, I must confess, I have had some _very_ interesting dreams involving you in the past." She kisses Tissaia's neck, making her shudder. "And I can tell you that waking from them is pure torture." She lifts her head to look at Tissaia, her eyes imploring.

"You shan't wake from this one," Tissaia assures her. "If I have any say in it, you shan't wake alone ever again."

To her surprise, Yennefer's face crumples, tears spill down her cheeks and her chin wobbles. Her chest heaves in a sob, then another and another.

"Oh. Oh! Yennefer." Tissaia's hands flutter before finding Yennefer's face, framing it and holding it. "My dear, what is it? What's the matter"

"I- I don't-" Yennefer gives a watery laugh. "I don't know. I just-" Another sob cuts her off and she sniffs and meets Tissaia's eyes. "It's real. You're here."

"I'm here," Tissaia confirms. "With you and Reina." She leans in and kisses Yennefer, tasting the salt of her tears. "I'm finally where I belong."

"Where you belong," Yennefer echoes, letting her forehead fall against Tissaia's.

Tissaia nods, closing her eyes. "I thought you were my boatman, Yennefer," she confesses. "The one I loved when I shouldn't have. The one who could never love me back."

"No." Yennefer shakes her head vigorously. "That is not and has never been true of me. I was never your boatman." She lifts Tissaia's hand to her mouth and kisses it. "But I could be your everything, if you will let me."

Tissaia's heart swells with love. "If you will let me be the same for you, then yes, I will."

Yennefer smiles and brings their lips together. Their sweet kiss becomes something else when Yennefer's arms tighten around her, bringing them as close as they can be. Yennefer's hand slides down her back, curving around her hip and pulling her impossibly closer. Yennefer's thigh presses between her own, the sensation painfully muffled by the volume of her skirts. Her hips move forward, unbidden, seeking out more contact. Yennefer's hand moves to the small of her back and a soft kiss is placed on her neck before Yennefer pulls back to look into her eyes.

"Stay?" she whispers, asking the question she has on countless other occasions. There's still a hint of insecurity in her voice that makes Tissaia's heart ache.

"Yes, darling girl," Tissaia says, cupping Yennefer's cheek and nodding. "I will stay with you."

Then she's being lifted up, Yennefer's arms are around her thighs and she ducks her head as she's being spun around.

"Yennefer! The ceilings here are very low!" she scolds, holding onto Yennefer's shoulders.

"And you overestimate your height," Yennefer says, staggering towards her bedroom. Thankfully she puts Tissaia down before attempting to go through the doorway, but she doesn't let her go far, catching her from behind and kissing up her neck to her ear. Tissaia squirms and laughs and turns in Yenenfer's arms, her hands moving to the buttons of her shirt while Yennefer's attempt to find the fastenings on her dress.

She has fully opened Yennefer's shirt, leaving it hanging loose, when Yennefer pulls away, frowning. "How the fuck does this dress open?" she demands, turning Tissaia around and then back again.

In no mood for teasing, Tissaia simply releases the spell that keeps the dress on and it falls away, leaving her in her corset and undergarments. "Magic, my dear," she says.

"Oh, fuck," Yennefer murmurs, her eyes trailing down Tissaia's body. "Oh, fuck."

"I never imagined you'd turn monosyllabic at the first sight of skin in the bedroom, Yennefer," Tissaia says, clicking her tongue.

Yennefer's eyes flick back up to meet hers and she cocks an eyebrow. "So you _have_ imagined me in the bedroom?"

Her throat is increasingly dry, so she swallows with difficulty and nods. "Many times." She takes a step towards Yennefer, reaching out to run a finger down from her chest, between her breasts, to her belly. "Many ways."

"Oh, fuck," Yennefer says again. "That's- I'm-"

"Just kiss me," Tissaia says. "And perhaps the words will follow."

Yennefer obliges, meeting her in a bruising kiss. Tissaia's hands slip beneath Yennefer's shirt and around to her back, exploring the smooth expanse as Yennefer's fingers attempt to undo the hooks on her corset.

"Mama?"

They break apart and turn to find Reina in the doorway, the blanket Yennefer had knitted for her all those months ago clutched in her hand. She's rubbing at her eye, but she smiles when she sees her mother is not alone.

"Ssaia!"

With an apologetic glance at Yennefer, Tissaia scoops up the sleepy child into her arms, letting her rest against her shoulder. Yennefer approaches and strokes Reina's back, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Are you okay, Princess? Will 'Ssaia take you back to your bed?"

Reina burrows closer to Tissaia, tightening her arm around her neck. Tissaia tilts her head against the smaller one. "Do you want to sleep in Mama's bed with us?" A nod. Yennefer rolls her eyes, but Tissaia knows it's for show.

"Come then," Yennefer says, taking Reina from her and depositing her in the bed, pulling the blankets up around her, kissing her forehead and cheek. Tissaia takes the opportunity to replace her undergarments with a modest nightgown. She turns away when Yennefer moves to change. Seeing her in less clothing would not help at this moment in time. She busies herself with folding her dress over the back of a chair, until soft hands land on her shoulders, followed by softer lips on her neck.

"I'm sorry," Yennefer murmurs. "I had such plans for us tonight."

Tissaia smiles, leaning back against her. "None of which you were able to articulate."

"Do you wish me to apologise for the fact that your beauty renders me speechless?" Yen asks, brushing her lips over Tissaia's ear.

A shiver runs through her, but the wording compels her to turn and take Yennefer's face in her hands. "We both know that beauty is superficial, Yennefer. And I want you to know that what I said earlier is true. Your body, your beauty-" She shakes her head. "While magnificent, they are not what draw me to you."

Yennefer's eyes soften and she smiles. "You are one of the few people on this continent that I would believe that from, given that you know what I really look like. Who I really am."

"Do not say that like who you are is in some way undesirable, Yennefer," Tissaia says. "Yes, I have known you almost all of your life." She touches Yennefer's jaw, her shoulder. "And if you hadn't undergone the enchantment, I believe we would still have found ourselves here, someday."

"People linked by destiny always find each other," Yennefer says.

"You think we are linked by destiny?" Tissaia asks, surprised.

"I can't think of another word for it," Yennefer says. "You saved me. My life was literally in your hands. If not for you, I would not be here today." She nuzzles Tissaia's cheek. "And when I was running from that assassin, I ended up at your feet."

Tissaia smiles as she is reminded of that fateful day. "Which should not have been possible," she admits. "As I always have wards in place around my apartments." Similar to those she had erected around her heart. Yennefer had breached both with ease.

Standing up straight, Yennefer smiles at her. "You see? We are destined to be together." She nods to the bed. "And if not for that little rascal's intrusion, we would be linked other interesting ways by now."

Laughing gently, Tissaia shakes her head. "We have plenty of time for th-"

"Mama! 'Ssaia! Bed!"

Yennefer sighs. "Is it too late to send her back to Lyria?" she asks.

"You would not part with her for the world," Tissaia says, with a smile.

"No. Nor would you," Yennefer counters as they head to opposite sides of the bed.

Tissaia gets in, and immediately Reina has snuggled into her, pressing her face against Tissaia's, warm little breaths puffing against her cheek.

"Oh." Tissaia drapes an arm across the tiny body, wondering how she'll ever get to sleep like this.

"You get used to the odd sleeping positions." Yennefer tells her, sliding across the bed until she is cuddled against Reina's back, her arm over both of them.

"I'm glad to hear it," Tissaia says, as Reina's breaths become snores. "It's been a while since I had anything but silence to send me to sleep."

"There's very little of that to be had here," Yennefer says, her thumb stroking up and down Tissaia's ribcage. She yawns and closes her eyes. "Just noise and mess, I'm afraid."

"And you, and Reina," Tissaia corrects. "Which is all that matters."

Yennefer's lips turn up in a smile. "Sing your song, as you did the first time we lay together like this," she murmurs. She lifts a hand to push a strand of hair behind Tissaia's ear, letting her fingers stroke down her jaw. "And you can do it safe in the knowledge that I am _not_ your boatman."

"You are not my boatman," Tissaia says, to hear herself say it.

"Never," Yennefer says, pressing a thumb to Tissaia's lips. "I'm not so foolish as he. I love you back."

Tissaia closes her eyes, turning to kiss Yennefer's palm. And begins to sing.

" _Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile,  
_ _Fhir a' bhàta, na hóro eile-"_

As the words leave her mouth, she thinks that her mother would be overjoyed to know that she has ended up in such a place, even if it took her centuries to get here. She loves and is loved in return. She has a child who smiles when she sees Tissaia, rather than quakes and hides.

She is happy.


End file.
